College Quirks
by Pet Me Feed Me
Summary: Hinata just wants to fulfill her dreams of becoming a famous artist. With no family to hold her back, she'll do whatever it takes to achieve that goal, even if it means cross-dressing as a boy to get into an all-boys college! Can she stay sane? SxH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hey. ODL here! If you're wondering why this story looks so familiar, it's because I took over it. It was originally by Kuro-Shinzui-Ookami, but she has officially handed the baton to me. I hope I do a good job!

Hyung Tae Kim is a Korean anime artist. Look him up. His colors are amazing, though his girls could wear more clothes. :D

Oh, and please take care of me! #bows profusely#

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Naruto. And anything you read about Hyung Tae Kim in here is a lie. Except that his art is delicious. Which it is.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Chapter One—Tokyo Academy's Finest Catch!

**Prologue **

Hyuuga Hinata had always been alone.

It was something she accepted—just as easily as she accepted that that her hair was jet black and her eyes cloudy blue, that she would never grow any taller than 5'4" or grow breasts any bigger than a B cup (though, on occasion, she would swear that she was graduating to C). She had never known parents, as far as she knew didn't have them, and didn't particularly crave for any either. The Matron was her Mother, and the thirty-or-so other children in the orphanage her siblings. They were her family. They plugged up the hole in her chest that yearned for love, although they never really gave it.

Occasionally, she marveled at how, in a building occupied by so many people, she could never really belong.

The Matron was kind to her, of course. She provided her with her necessities—her food, her water, her clothes. Sometimes, she was even warm, although that warmth quickly fizzled away in the face of the chill that comes with stress. She fussed over her occasionally, loathing the fact that a "pretty young lady" such as Hinata was stuck in a Home with screaming infants and defiant toddlers, and that she had to wear shabby hand-me-downs rather than newer, trendier outfits.

Hinata could care less how _she _looked. As a girl, she had her vanities, but channeled them differently than most, choosing to push perfection onto paper rather than try in vain to brush it on her face.

Drawing came naturally to her; it was something she would do all the time if she had the chance. And, luckily, she was good at it. Her art teachers marveled at how, when she'd walked into class on the first day, she had managed to reproduce her classmate's faces on papers within minutes, and how her shading always looked impeccable. They lamented at her incompetence with other media—Hinata hardly got along well with paintbrushes—but it was obvious she would get far. Her "friends"—the people who talked to her on occasion and rarely got feedback—clamored for her secret.

She had none. All of her life, she had done nothing but draw and dream, dream and draw. She'd only practiced, drawn until her fingers were covered in graphite and eraser shavings covered her bed sheets and caught in her hair. Drawn until everyone around her assumed she had zero social skills and stopped trying to make conversation. Drawn until her whole life revolved around art.

It was for this reason that she had applied to the best art college in the nation. Internationally, it was renowned for outputting some of the best masters the world had seen, all working in a million media. She'd heard rumors that Hyung Tae Kim had studied there for a few years, and just the thought of _sitting _in the same room he once did made her stomach flutter. She'd turned in her portfolio and her resume, and wrote her essay a million times over before deciding that her paper was satisfying.

The only thing about Tokyo Academy that wasn't perfect was the fact that it was an all-boy's school.

**

_Blip. Blip. Blip._

The incessant beeping of her alarm forced Hinata awake. Groggily, she felt around for the snooze button and smashed down. For one full minute, she snuggled into her pillow, trying to, once more, let sleep embrace her.

Then a shock jolted her awake. Frantically, she tossed off her covers. What day was it? What time? Had she overslept?

_Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

She hadn't even started to "transform" herself yet! Leaping out of her small bed, Hinata ran into the bathroom across the hall. Grateful that none of the other kids were up so early, she hastily took a shower and marched back, grabbing a pair of scissors from the bathroom drawer. Wrapping her towel more tightly around herself, she bounded to her mirror. She frowned down at her curves—_they _certainly weren't going to make this job any easier—and then gave a sad smile to her hair. It was long, thick, and fell in beautiful waves—the only vanity she had allowed herself. But art was more important.

Binding her hair in a braid, she brought the scissors to the end and chopped it away. If fell with a substantial thud to the floor, and she looked down at it ruefully and continued her work, snipping until her hair settled in a boyish crown around her head. She pouted at herself in the mirror. Her face was not necessarily pretty—she'd always thought its shape too round and her eyes too pale, but her lips were pursed and puckered like a baby's and her button nose could only be described as _cute. _She looked at herself more closely, trying to decide if she made a convincing boy.

The neck was too slender, no Adam's apple protruding from her throat. The face seemed gentle. Her shoulders were slim, and her B-cups had never looked quite so big in her entire life. She frowned at herself, hoping the fiercer expression would make her look more masculine.

It didn't. She was perfectly androgynous. Cute-androgynous, sure, but androgynous all the same.

She shrugged. There wasn't much she could do about that.

Next, she reached under her pillow for something soft—an extremely long strip of silk cloth she had bought from a nearby cosplay store. She wrapped it tightly around her chest, hissing as the binds compressed her. It was uncomfortable, but she would live.

To top all of this off, she pulled out a set of semi-baggy pants and a medium-sized polo shirt. At first, she'd considered dressing only baggily, but as a result had looked silly and somehow false. The polo made her slim figure seem more natural, the straight-legged jeans hiding her curves better than she had hoped.

She held the train tickets in her hand. Her backpack contained her life savings for food and emergencies (and more clothes), her sketchpad and Ebony pencils, and, further down, her female necessities. She'd requested to room alone, and her advisor had said that there was a high chance her request would be accepted. That made things _so _much easier. She'd already sent the bulk of her belongings to the Academy—they'd already tucked them in safely in her future room.

Sighing, she braced herself. She was ready. All she had to do was leave. That was it.

She placed one foot in front of the other, ready to begin her journey.

"Nee-san? Where're you going?"

Hinata froze midstep, and then watched, effectively chagrined, as Konohomaru's wide eyes looked at her from head to toe. He whistled quietly, his question answered.

"I made it into Tokyo Academy."

Konohomaru nodded. He was only twelve, but he was probably the most mature of the children in the Home and she tended to confide in him. "So. I have to call you Hinata-kun now?"

Hinata blushed, once more humbled, and nodded. "H-Hai!"

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Good luck," he said, and then gave her a wide smile and a thumbs-up. "Don't act too girly. They might think you're gay. Oh. And." His face became serious. It really was, sometimes, hard to believe that this was the kid who, only a few weeks ago, had drawn mustaches on the portraits of all of the past Matrons. "Listen. Seriously, Hina-chan. If you're discovered---it's an all boy's school. If someone finds out, you'll get hurt."

Blushing madly now, Hiinata cleared her throat and held her head high. "Thank you for your concern, Konohomaru-kun. But don't worry. I won't b-be discovered. A-and there's an all-girl's school next door! Nobody will have the time to look at me. I'll waist-deep in my dreams!"

She ruffled his hair affectionately, and he pouted, unconvinced. His concern touched her, so she leaned over and very gently gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Good-bye, Konohomaru-kun."

Konohomaru smiled warmly, and then suddenly began clawing at his cheek as though it were infected. Hinata blanched. "Are you okay?" she asked. She hadn't put on any lip-balm today; was he having a freak allergic reaction?

He wrinkled his nose at her. "Nah," he said mischievously, "It's just that being kissed by another guy is a bit gross."

Laughing, Hinata flicked his forehead and ran away before he could catch up to her. But mostly before she would lose control and decide to look back.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for all of the reviews! Yes, I know, you want me to hurry up and pick up where Kuro-chan left off. I'll try and update quickly, but I want to do it this way so that the chapters can flow and so that I can plant my plot bunny seeds ahead of time. No worries, this story's chapters are a lot shorter than my other story's, so I'll try to update faster, ne?

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Sasuke…Welll…I dunno. I guess I'd use him for X0XO#*$ stuff. :D

**

Chapter Two

Hyuuga Hinata stood, speechless, in front of the grandest building she had ever seen. The walls were snow white—exceptionally well kept—and the lawn surrounding it was a brilliant green color that made any good artist teem with inspiration.

And, to top it off, milling around the college grounds were—

Hundreds of college men.

_Artsy _college men.

Hinata was no slut, in fact she'd never taken much interest in the boys in her high school, but she was still a teenage girl, teeming with hormones. Despite how mean many of them had been to her, she still liked to look at them—mostly artistically, of course. Men had such beautiful bodies, curved but subtly, and, when toned, full of such grace…

Of course, if these guys were anything like the ones in her old school, her life was going to be miserable for sure. For as long as she could remember, she'd always been crippled by shyness. Every sentence she uttered seemed to start with a stammer, although they sounded clear and confident in her head. The guys always liked to make fun of her for that.

She sighed. At least there wouldn't be any girl drama to deal with. Hinata had never really had close friends, just people with similar interests that she occasionally talked to, and in that group none of them were girls. Girls were too catty and judgmental. They made her feel inadequate.

She sighed, spying a group of them. They were all pretty, in a strange, bohemian kind of way—hair put up in messy but stylish buns, multiple, colorful scarves tossed around slender necks, tasteful but daring makeup, short skirts undeniably designed by the wearers. If they had been alone on the street, they would have seemed different and unique, but altogether like this? They looked like clones. They were all giggling and leaning in to someone in the middle, someone who would have been completely lost amongst so many people if he weren't so tall, someone they all seemed to take _particular _interest in. He had dark hair, and even from such a distance, Hinata could tell that he must be good-looking.

She rolled her eyes and readjusted her backpack, and then marched over to her College House. It was the Aoi House, something that pleased Hinata very much, since blue was without doubt her favorite color. It had tickled her so much that the different dorm houses were named after colors of the rainbow…

She met the Dorm Head, a middle-aged professor with a clean-shaven face and brows that were dangerously close to being knotted. After checking through the room assignments, he fumbled around for her key.

"Here," he said once he had found it. He handed it to her. "What is your first name again, Hyuuga?"

She gulped. "Hi-Hinata," she whispered.

"What? I can't hear you, son. Speak up!"

Hinata grimaced and stood up straight and with all of her courage, said in as deep a voice she could manage, "Hinata Hyuuga, sir."

"Well, Hinata," the Dean said with a smile, "Here's your scheduele," he handed her a slip of paper, "…and leave your door open, would you? Your roommate should be here soon."

Hinata turned beet-red at this. Roommate? She had a roommate?

"S-sir!" she said, not attempting to deepen her voice this time, "I-I requested a single room…"

The Dean scowled. "There weren't enough to go around. Your roommate requested a single room too, but we're pressed for space."

Tinged pink, Hinata clutched her fists at her sides. "Is there no way I could switch with someone _with _a single room? I-I really can't…"

The Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hinata-san. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get along just fine."

And at that, the Dean turned and started to walk away. Hinata hung her head, biting her lip. How was she supposed to hide her identity if she was going to be _living _with someone? When she changed out of her clothes, she definitely had a feminine body. What would happen if he found out? What if you got some lech who would blackmail her and force her to use her body to keep him quiet?

She shuddered, and then opened the door to her room.

Aoi dorm really lived up to its name. The walls were painted a gentle sky blue, decorated with white, wispy clouds, almost like a nursery. Blue and white curtains hung limply from the windows, and there were two twin sized beds. They had matching navy blue comforters and were separated by two small dressers, but Hinata still thought them too close together. She went through one of the three doors leading out of the bedroom—one lead to a bathroom, the other to the hall, and one to a living area shared by three other rooms. The living area was neat, though; there was a large screen plasma in one corner, comfy looking (if ghastly) denim sofas, and a little kitchen that looked untouched.

Hinata immediately claimed the bed closest to the window—light from outside would leak in during the night, light she could draw by without disturbing her roommate. She tossed her bag down as though to claim it, and then rifled through it, in case her roommate got curious. She grabbed her tampons, pads, bras, and embarrassing panties and stuffed them as far back under the bed as they could go. For good measure, she pulled out the too-big boxers she'd bought for herself and stuffed them in her dresser, as though to assure the sneaky roommate that yes, he was rooming with a guy. She knew she was being slightly paranoid, but it assured her.

Quickly, she gathered up her sketchpad and Ebony pencils and made her way outside.

Behind Aoi dorm was a large courtyard fashioned into a beautiful, shady garden, complete with looming Japanese Red Maples, blue hydrangea blossoms and pink crepe myrtles, along side the quintessential sakura trees. Benches were hidden here and there amongst the flora. She found one and claimed it and immediately began sketching.

She'd never been very good at landscapes—people were simply more interesting to her. There was something wondrous in bringing someone to life on paper, something fulfilling that she simply couldn't gain through drawing stills. Nevertheless, the scene around her was simply too beautiful, so she allowed herself to try it out.

Ten minutes passed and she was still lost in her own world, then twenty, then thirty. This was heaven. She'd never known any place so peaceful…

"Sasuke-kun! Come back--!"

A student ran through the bushes and then crouched down, utterly silent, not noticing the girl-boy who was staring right at him. He seemed bent on locating something, or, rather, escaping from it.

"Oh, Sasuke, darling, where are you?"

"Marry me, Sasuke! I promise you can do whatever you want with me…"

Three or four very excited girls came giggling past, ignoring Hinata as well. She watched them skip away, stunned. Her gaze went back to the boy as he panted and collapsed halfway onto a bench. He propped his arms up on the seats and sighed.

"Damn fangirls…"

Hinata gasped, clutching her pencil so tightly that she blocked off circulation to her fingers. She could see why the girls loved him so much. He was tall and slim, with model-length legs that were currently sprawled along the emerald-green grass. His arms were defined, and Hinata could see those subtle hints of muscle that she loved under his pale skin. His hair was longish and jet-black, and strands of it had fallen across his face and seemed slightly wet from sweat. His half-open eyes were onyx-black, and when he tilted his head up to gasp for air again she spied the most beautiful Adam's apple she'd ever laid eyes upon. It made her positively giddy with excitement.

Without even really thinking, she started to sketch him. It was so hard to capture that expression he wore—the nonchalant, yet somehow simultaneously irritated and exasperated look. Her eyes darted up nervously, as she added in the bench, and then experimentally a few flowers around his legs. The end result was good, she thought, though the background gave it the impression of having come from a very well drawn, very cheesy shonen-ai manga. She held it out triumphantly in front of her, feeling quite accomplished…

"What the hell?"

"AYAAHHH!" Hinata shrieked and fell off of the bend, sending her pencils and sketchbook flying through the air. She clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing that she had screamed like a girl. She scurried around, reaching for her pencils, and was about to grab her sketchbook, but he got there first and snatched it right from under her fingers.

Furiously, he flipped through the pages, grunting every now and then, and she flushed. Most of them were men—male backs, faces, hands, full bodies and portraits done quickly with her trusted Ebonies. She knew when he had reached his picture because his lip curled into an angry sneer.

"What the hell is this? Are you some fan girl or something?" He tossed the book back at her, and she caught it right in the gut. "What's your problem?"

"I…ano…I was only sketching…" Hinata looked everywhere, at the bushes, at the bench, at the gorgeous flowers around them—everywhere but at him. She pursed her lips, aware that she had accidentally reverted back to girl-mode. With some difficulty, she pulled herself to her feet, standing at her highest height, and met the boy's dark eyes. Clearing her throat, she said, "And…I," she paused, "I. Am a guy. H-How can I be your fan? I don't even know you. D-Don't be so full of yourself."

He narrowed his eyes, slightly affronted, and then looked Hinata up and down. "Hmph. That's right. You _don't _know me. So don't go around drawing people just because you want to. I have a copyright on this face."

She pressed her lips. "I only…I only drew you for practice. You were there," she whispered it defensively, clutching her sketchbook tighter.

"Whatever, freak." The boy walked away, hands in her pockets, and Hinata let herself slide back down to her knees in the grass. The sun was already setting, casting a gorgeous orange glow over the grounds, but she could hardly pat attention to it.

"Crap!" she whispered to herself. Gathering the rest of her belongings, she raced toward the dorms.

**

Hinata unlocked the door to her room and rushed to her bed. There were two suitcases, carelessly thrown, on the other bed, and a pair of oddly familiar jeans and a shirt was strewn over the headboard.

Her roommate was obviously there. The bathroom door was closed, and light streamed from the cracks. A faint hiss, accompanied by the sound of running water, told her that her roommate was probably taking a shower. Chilled by the fact that there was a naked male bathing only a few feet away from her, Hinata quickly began changing for bed. She pulled a large t-shirt over her shoulders and quickly unwound her bindings, folding them tightly and stuffing them under her bed. With expertise that definitely required practice, she hoisted a sports bra on underneath, and pulled on a pair of baggy, long pajama pants. Hastily, she put her art supplies away, minus the sketchbook and one pencil, and then collapsed on the bed.

She stared at the drawing that had gotten her in so much trouble with the mysterious boy. There really wasn't any reason for him to be so angry—it was a good sketch. She had gotten his general facial features and just about perfectly captured his exasperated expression. It was a peaceful scene nonetheless—he looked more like he was resting from a tough day than running from a bunch of screeching girls.

Sighing, Hinata threw her clothes in the hamper just in time for the sound of water to cease. There was a long pause and a few grunts and bangs as her roommate got dressed for bed. Her heart was thundering. Whoever stepped out of that bathroom would be the person she was stuck with for four years. Was he nice? God, she hoped he was nice. He'd have to be patient, too, because she really didn't know how to handle brash people…

The doorknob turned.

"YOU!" they both shrieked.

Hinata was utterly shocked. The extremely gorgeous, angry jerk she had sketched was standing in _her _room. Wearing only boxers. With his sculpture-perfect muscles tensed, as though ready to be painted.

Oh boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**A/N: I know. It's been over two months. Yes, I am a douche. No, I don't have any excuses that you want to hear. No, I can't be sure that I'll be much better behaved for a while. Think of this as a Christmas present. *Le sigh* **

**Sorrrrrryyyy. School is kind of kicking my butt right now, and what with college apps and all… I HAVE NO LIFE.**

**Disclaimer : **I don't own Naruto. Chuck Norris does. Chuck Norris owns all.

****

Hinata didn't know how long she stood and stared at him. He was dripping, for crying out loud, and the towel around his neck was almost thoroughly soaked. He looked like a gorgeous shonen-ai seme right out of a shower. She gaped, both her inner otaku and artist itching to grab something to draw with.

Then, she cleared her throat and looked sharply away. Staring openly at a half-naked guy was far from appropriate. He'd suspect. Taking a discreet breath, she opened her mouth to speak.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the boy said. His voice was almost a monotone, bored and chilling. Her favorite romance writers would call it a "sexy baritone rumble."

It was then that she realized that he hadn't believed her at all when she'd said she was a guy. She furrowed her brow and looked him right in the eye.

"I…I should ask you the same thing! What are you doing in my room?" She realized that, in her nervousness, her pitch was climbing, and quickly brought it down.

"You? A guy?" He crossed his arms angrily, but his anger was icy cold, deep and penetrating rather than hot and surface-deep. It took all of her energy and courage to try and mirror his fury.

"You stupid fangirls keep coming up with the weirdest plans…"

That did it.

"I am a guy!" she yelled, sounding more convincing now. "Stop being so…narcissistic! If you have a problem, go see the Dean! I'm Hyuuga Hinata, you can have him check if you want to so badly!"

He looked a little taken aback by her outburst, and she was glad. She'd had a tiring day, and he hadn't made it much better. She crossed her arms too, her lilac eyes teeming. _Take that, douchebag._

"…Well, Hyuuga-san," he said, "Since I feel sorry for you, I'll let you stay. I mean, must suck looking like a chick all the time. Unless you're gay, and you like that."

At this, Hinata flushed red and stepped forward, cracking her knuckles threateningly. He smirked and backed away, lifting his hands in mock-surrender. "Hey, chill out. Teasing."

_Not funny._

"I'm Uchiha Sasuke," he said. With a grand, mocking bow, he flung his towel aside, leaving his torso completely exposed. She almost turned to mush again. He walked elegantly toward the queen bed, and pointed to hers with a flourish. "Good night, Hyuuga-san."

She watched his back in awe. His pale skin stretched tightly over the rippling muscles, and his graceful movements, even as he plopped himself on his bed, made her stomach squirm. He was the perfect model, the type Michelangelo must have observed for his masterpieces.

No way he'd catch her drawing him again, though. Sighing, she plopped into bed too and pulled her comforter over her head.

"Good night," she whispered, and then promptly fell asleep.

**

Thick beams of sunshine illuminated the dorm. Hinata lay in a state of half-arousal, blissfully unaware of the crashes and bangs her roommate made while completing his morning routine. Only when he slammed the door shut did she shuttle out of bed.

Strangely alert, she searched around desperately for the alarm clock and held it up to her face. It was… 8:54. Her first class, _Intro to Sketching and Painting_, was at…9:00. And, to make it worse, it was on the other side of the campus.

Crap.

She dressed hurriedly, almost forgetting her bindings in her flurry. Tossing her backpack onto her back, she sprinted as fast her legs could carry her. It was a good thing she'd joined the rigorous karate program at her school, because otherwise, the journey would have been impossible. She passed by professors, lay students, and a few girls from the school next door, catching glimpses of conversations.

"The new Gundam is out!" The nerdy boys hovering around a magazine in the courtyard…

"My girlfriend is so high maintenance! The longer the order, the higher…" Two Scene boys sitting on the edge of a fountain…

"I _am _the muffin man!" Hinata didn't bother checking who said _that._

And then, a loud shout caught her attention. She skidded to a stop, looking just outside the courtyard to where a pretty, dark-haired woman stood. Three burly men, suspicious characters who really should not be on campus, hovered around her threateningly.

The woman turned around and Hinata gasped. She was gorgeous, with full red lips, dark, wide, red-brown eyes, and a face that seemed to spell "sexy and intelligent."

She turned back just as quickly. "You must exit the college grounds, sirs," she said, with a polished, clipped voice. "I can call security, if you like."

"Aww, don't be like that, hon!" One of them said loudly.

Hinata wrinkled her brow. Really? Drunk at nine o'clock in the morning? _Seriously?_

Sighing, she adjusted her bag on her back and slowly approached them. Why didn't the woman just leave? It'd save her some trouble. An alien surge of jealousy forced its way through Hinata, unreasonable, but there—she'd never been pretty enough to be _hit on. _

"E-excuse me," she said, forcing her voice to be a bit louder than usual. One of the men squinted down at her like she was a bright light shining during a hangover. "Excuse me, but if you could p-please, please leave?"

The woman at her side looked at her incredulously, but the men just laughed. "What are you gonna do if we don't?" one slurred.

Hinata bit her lip. She'd really hope they wouldn't be difficult.

"Please?"

They roared in laughter, and mimicked her soft voice. "'_Please'_! she says! Wait, what the hell is this kid?" The boy closest to her leaned in. "Man, this _can't _be a guy…!"

Affronted, Hinata's natural response was to jerk her palm upwards and smash it heavily against his chin. The boy gave a slightly gurgled exclamation of pain and stumbled backward, massaging his jaw.

"I-I'm a guy!" She yelled for the umpteenth time that day. What was she doing so wrong? Why didn't anyone really believe her? "Please," she whispered again, "I'm a second-degree black belt in karate and judo. Please do not underestimate me because I'm small."

Okay, so the judo thing was a lie. But, Hinata could pick up half of her instructors and toss them over her shoulder in a neat arc, men who could be twice as stocky as the three morons in front of her.

Finally, after a moment of vehement staring, the boys finally gave in, muttered something about 'traps', and slinking out of the courtyard.

Hastily, Hinata turned to the beautiful woman, bowed until her head nearly brushed the grass.

"Gomen," she said a little awkwardly, and then, without a backwards glance, sped across the lawn to her class.

**

Naturally, she was late. Ten minutes late, to be exact. Fortunately, so was the teacher.

The only bad part about coming in late was finding a seat. A small private college meant that the classes were relatively small as well, and relatively small classes meant relatively few seats. She felt just like a high school freshman on the first day in a cafeteria—lost, alone, and perfectly miserable.

And then, somewhere in the back, a blonde boy lifted his arm and waved. Relieved, Hinata shuffled over, keeping her face down to hide the overpowering blush.

"Hi," he said, not giving her time to get situated before jumping into intros, "Hey… you okay?"

She looked up. He was really good-looking—in a strange, eclectic way. Sky blue eyes, slightly hidden by a shock of unruly, hither-tither blonde hair, skin so deeply tan that it seemed brown. He looked like a living, breathing image of the sun, complete with a wide, toothy smile and a set of thin, jagged scars that jutted like rays from his smooth face. Okay, so right now he looked a bit goofy—his smile was just _so _huge—but he was definitely inspiring.

"Hey…Hey!" Hinata whipped around and blinked. "I asked if you were okay."

She looked down at him unblinkingly for a moment, and then nodded profusely. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Then, down at her feet.

Naruto looked at her pensively for a second, rubbing his chin. She tried to focus on her laces to keep from blushing.

"Sorry I'm late!" a strangely familiar voice sounded. Hinata started from her seat and looked up. A pair of crimson eyes met hers, and then softened considerably. The pretty woman—presumably her teacher—smiled. "I got a little…held up."

It was strange to dive right into class without calling role or saying pledges or cleaning up, but it was something Hinata could get used to. The first assignment was simple, and strangely both exciting and nerve-racking- they had to find partners, draw, and critique each other. It would be nice to finally talk to kids her age with her passion for art, but terrifying to talk to these new…_boys._

Internally, Hinata eeped.

Surprisingly, Naruto turned to Hinata again with a wide smile. "Hey, wanna be my partner?"

It was hard not to flush red and think, '_Oh my goodness, someone is actually _asking _to be my partner instead of grumbling about being stuck with me?'_, but Hinata braved that temptation with impressive valor.

Until he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the back corner of the room. Then, she was a lot less concerned about blushing and a lot more about fainting.

"So, Hyuuga…Where are you from?" Naruto said as they took their seats and sketchpads. He twirled his Ebony pencil between his fingers and started sketching an outline of her face.

"Osaka," she muttered. It was hard not to be curt when she was concentrating. He seemed to understand, though.

"Wow. That's kinda far. What brought you all the way here?"

Smiling, Hinata glanced up. "Art is my passion. I-If I want to be the best, I have to l-learn from the best. I-I like to sketch, so…"

Good-naturedly, he cut her off. "Sketching?" He shrugged. "I'm more of a painter myself—mostly acrylics and oils. I'm trying out impressionism a lot lately—not so great at it yet." His face suddenly became a little more somber, his eyes darkening and his jaw settling. "With impressionism, when you look too close, all you see is splotches. You don't think there's any detail at all. And then, you step back, and you suddenly see the big picture." He looked up and caught her eyes—she was paying him full attention now. "I mean, don't you wish life was like that? That you could just step back for a moment and just…see everything?"

It was at that moment, perhaps, that Hinata felt her heart lurch for the first time in her life. There was no fighting the blush this time. She knew it was coming.

_I'm a boy. I'M A BOY! Even when I was a girl, guys didn't see me. There's no reason for…_

"That…" she whispered. "That's a really good point, Uzmaki-kun."

He smirked. "Never thought I'd hear _anyone _tell me that, huh. Oh, and call me Naruto, okay? _No one _ever calls me by my last name."

She smiled. "Hai, Naruto-kun."

They sketched in silence for a few minutes. Then, quite suddenly, Naruto stood bolt straight in his seat, slapped his Ebony beneath his legs, and yelled, "Done!"

Hinata looked up. It was good. Really good. He paid attention to her most prominent features—her lips and eyes, skimping on most of the details like a true impressionist. Somehow, in avoiding precision, he'd also managed to bring out her feminine qualities front-and-center.

"It's a real pity you're a guy, you know?" he said nonchalantly, giving the picture a look over. "You've got a really cute face."

Hinata turned crimson. "I'm almost done with yours, Naruto-kun."

A few minutes later, her pencil stilled in her hands. Looking up, she leaned forward slightly to peer at his face and met his cerulean eyes instead.

"My…'whiskers'?" he said, tracing a finger down one of the six lines that marked both cheeks.

She nodded. His eyes had darkened again. They almost seemed a tumultuous grey now. She bit her lip and thought that they were really like the sky.

"A few years ago, I was living in foster care. The lady I stayed with got completely drunk one night, and when I tried to keep her away from the other kids, she got angry and slapped me all over the place." His smile got lonely. "She was holding a broken bottle the entire time."

Hinata gasped.

He shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, since Jiraiya-sama adopted me, I've been pretty happy. I mean, when I got in here, he was so excited for me! It's a good feeling."

Hinata barely noticed that his eyes had turned back, and that his smile had returned. Tears were brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I-I'm so sorry," she managed between deep breaths.

He noticed that her eyes were glistening and gently poked her forehead. "Don't be."

She smiled a bit in spite of herself. "I-I've lived in an orphanage since I was three," she offered, trying to open her heart as willingly as Naruto had.

He tilted his head to one side endearingly. "Well then, sounds like we're in tehsame boat then?"

He laughed, and flashed her a blinding smile.

"Yeah," she murmured, pretending to focus deeply on her picture.

*

The day had felt endless. Hinata had literally ran from one class to the next, but her heart felt light. Not only was she fulfilling her dream—making it into this school had been all she'd dreamed it would be and more—but she was also making _friends. _Cute friends. Naruto had invited her to meet him and a few friends at the Ichiraku bar on the outskirts of Tokyo. She hadn't even thought of declining.

She knew she had no reason to be quite so happy. It wasn't like she could revert to actually being a girl here. It wasn't a date—there'd be other guys and whatnot.

Classes were over, so she decided to wander. It took hours just to get through the Visual Arts Department—there were so many different painting, drawing, sculpting and graphic design courses to choose from that it was almost dizzying.

After reaching the Performing Arts sector, she heard voices in the auditorium and decided to investigate. Slipping inside, Hinata took a seat in the very back of the theater. The play wasn't a traditional Japanese—there were girls with scripts lounging right in front of the stage, and front and center, looking for the all the world as though he was lost in his lines, was—

No. It couldn't be.

"Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed and my invention thrive…"

That voice. It was the same pitch, sure. But the tone was so different, the expression so wild…

"Edmund the base shall top th' legitimate. I grow, I prosper!"

The on-stage Edmund raised both arms in mockery of the gods above him. "Now, gods, stand up for bastards!"

Sasuke. It was Sasuke, and he was good. Really, really good. Edmund had been one of her favorite Shakespearean characters, and the cruel, ambitious expression on his face matched perfectly. He knew _exactly _what he was doing. He moved with grace and poise while still channeling his character's mad energy. She could hardly believe the man on stage and her irritable roommate were the same.

His obsidian eyes flickered her way. The theater was dark, but she was paranoid and didn't particularly feel like explaining _this _coincidence away. The door was still open. The moment he opened his mouth to say his next line, she darted out.

*

"Hyuuga!" A boisterous voice, Naruto's, naturally, somehow managed to overcome the noise in the café. Before she could stop herself, Hinata's heart began to hammer.

_You're a boy now, Hinata, _she reminded herself, forcing herself to smile back at the blonde. He was surrounded by a group of rather good-looking guys, all lounging comfortably into the soft booth seats.

"S-sorry I'm late." Late, again. She was making a habit of this.

"No problem," Naruto said, standing up to make room for her. "Guys, this is Hinata-kun, my drawing buddy. Hinata, this is my gang—Lee, Shino, Kiba, Chouji, and Shikamaru."

The one Naruto had introduced as Kiba bounded to his feet, grinning wolfishly. He was good-looking in a unique way- his eyes were heavily hooded and the pupils small, his skin Indian-brown. He was built like an athlete.

"Nice to meetcha, Hyuuga-san." He cocked his drink forward in a half-hearted toast. Suddenly, a small, furry head burst from his sweater and looked around. Kiba swore quietly and tried to discreetly stuff the animal back down, but it was a little too eager to explore.

_He has a dog…in his sweater? _

The puppy looked Hinata directly in the eye, whimpered, and then panted excitedly before being unceremoniously forced back down the jacket.

"Easy, Akamaru," Kiba muttered, and then looked up at Hinata with another bright smile. "Figures. Aka-kun only gets this curious around girls. I guess he mistook you for one."

And thus began the long string of queries against Hinata's 'masculinity,' a conversation that Hinata was not sure whether to be affronted or flattered by. Once this topic died, Kiba and Naruto began an epic arm-wrestling contest that resulted in several spilled drinks, a pissed off hostess, and a accidently-released Akamaru.

Around these guys, life would never be boring _again._

**

An hour passed. With Kiba, Naruto, and Lee (who had a bowlcut and dressed entirely in form-fitting green…stuff) keeping her constantly occupied, she didn't notice the newest arrival. So, when Naruto suddenly froze mid-sentence, leaned halfway over the table and yelled, "TEME! You're late!", she'd almost jumped out of her skin.

Of course, when she turned around at met dark, beautiful Uchiha eyes, the previous shock wasn't even comparable.

Sasuke's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and then flickered back to Naruto. "I had practice, dobe. Not all of us have nothing to do all day."

He sat down, squeezing next to Hinata in the booth. She could feel his hips press against hers and reminded herself that yes, they were guys, this was normal…

"I'm starving. Anyone order anything for me?"

"Yes," Lee said, "Of course we did! It would be dishonorable not to do so?"

Sasuke gestured around the table, which was piteously empty. He lay predatory eyes on Hinata's still unfinished miso. Unconsciously, she pulled it closer to herself.

"It would be even more dishonorable to leave perfectly good, hot food to cool," Lee explained.

The one called Shino, who for that entire evening had done little more than brood/glare condescendingly at everyone from behind his round shades, said, "What Lee _means_ is that we got sick of waiting and just ate it."

Hinata giggled mid-bite. It came out like all of her giggles did—soft, high-pitched, and very, very feminine. When the rest of the table fell temporarily silent, she flushed, coughed, and pushed more noodles into her mouth.

The image was so ridiculous, but so darn cute that every guy at the table simultaneously thought, _Kami, why'd you make this one a _guy?

Naruto broke out of the stupor first. "Teme, by the way, have you met Hinata-kun?"

Sasuke reached around Hinata, who was the only one with food left, and filched some of her noodles. "Of course, dobe. He's my roommate."

"Ne?" Naruto cried out. "No fair! I've got Shino. He's always humming Bach tunes to his ant farm. It's so creepy—"

Naruto was promptly cut off by an elbow in the gut from a slightly peeved Shino. Getting the point, he steered the conversation away.

"Ergh, anway, Sasuke, Hinata, can we hang at your dorm tonight? I'll bring Sakura and her friends." He wriggled a brow suggestively.

"No."

"Yes."

Hinata and Sasuke turned to look at each other. After a moment, Suaske finally turned back, scooped up a generous portion of Hinata's remaining food, and downed it.

"Fine," he said. "But you're cleaning up, and I swear to god if any of those girls get too desperate—"

"You'll be okay, Sas-_uke,_" Naruto said, and then promptly whipped out his orange cell phone to call his friends.

"Hinata," he said, holding the phone to his ear. "This is going to be a blast! You'll see!"

Hinata nodded once, unsure of what Naruto really considered a "blast" and wondering whether it was compatible with her thoughts of one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I sent a request to the manga-faerie to own Naruto. She denied it. Darned stingy manga faerie.

Chapter Four

Hinata wrung her hands together, racking her brains for something, _anything, _to say to break the awkward silence with her brooding roommate. They'd left a little early, while Naruto and the others shuttled off to pick up the "girls," whoever they were.

They'd agreed to meet at the dorm by eight. "Gives you guys time to _tidy up,_" Naruto had said suggestively, after which both Shino and Sasuke whacked him upside the head.

Biting her lip, Hinata stole a glance at him (_God, he's so pretty) _and took a deep breath.

"S-so, Uchiha-san," she muttered, "You're an actor?"

He didn't answer for a moment. A deep, stifling embarrassment inched its way up to her throat, and she wanted to hide her face in her hands. Of course he wasn't listening. Of course he didn't want to talk to _her…_

"Yeah," he breathed, "I'm thespian."

Hinata stopped short and stared at him, heart racing. Her eyes darted to his Adam's Apple—too masculine for a girl's, but sex-changes these days could work wonders—"You're a lesbian? That means you're a girl t---!"

Sasuke turned around so quickly that he might have suffered whiplash. "Thespian! A thespian is an _actor—_a term that came from the name of the first playwright!" He turned away from her, and Hinata's eyes locked, once more, onto her feet. Back to square one, then. _I'm so stupid._

Thank goodness she hadn't finished her sentence. She really had nothing to say to beg pardon for her faux pas, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You have a lovely voice, U-Uchiha-san…" her voice faded as she looked up to see his reaction.

He'd stopped, but then again, they were at their dorm. Glancing quickly at her, he lifted an eyebrow. "You know this how?"

Hinata could almost feel the chill settle in around her as he focused the iciest glare she'd ever seen upon her. She mumbled something, twiddled her thumbs, and finally managed, "I…saw you performing on stage. King Lear is my f-favorite play, and…you make a really good Edmund."

Sasuke shrugged. "Thanks, I guess." Then he stopped. "Wait. You were watching? You're not in the Drama department. How'd you get in?"

She blinked once, realizing that her having seen him probably came across as stalkerish. "The door was open! I got lost, and…I heard my favorite line, so I had to see…"

"Which line?"

Hinata furrowed her brow. "What?"

He rolled his eyes, jamming the door open and then promptly blocking it. "Which line did you hear?"

She blushed. "Oh. Erm. It goes, 'Now gods…"

"….Stand up for bastards," he finished. "Okay. You're allowed in, weirdo."

She slinked past him and leaned against a wall, closing her eyes. The day had been long, and she felt that this already tense conversation might take a turn for the worse. All she wanted to do was curl up on the couch, take an aspirin, and watch Glee reruns. She'd wished, more than anything, that she'd just agreed with Sasuke and refused Naruto—the last thing she needed right then was the hyperactive blonde's antics.

She turned to Sasuke. He was sitting on his bed, idly flipping the keys through his fingers, turning them, one by one and feeling the teeth.

_How can someone so beautiful be so cold?_

"Get up," he finally said, chucking the keys behind him. "We have to sort this place out."

She nodded. They both walked to opposite sides of the room and began picking up the clothes and random junk that had somehow accumulated over the course of the day. Hinata tried to initiate conversation twice, but was either met with blunt, terse responses or punctuated silence. But at least he was speaking to her, and that alone encouraged her to try a little harder. It was hard _not _to be interested in the Uchiha—this strange person who didn't seem to care about anything but still thought on everything she asked as though each question was a matter of life or death. Maybe he was grumpy because he was tired. After fifteen minutes of cleaning, she'd learned that he was a year older than her, and that he'd been acting for as long as he could remember. He wasn't friendly at all—still very distant—but at least he wasn't effusive.

Soon, the room was spotless. Sasuke plopped down heavily on the couch. Hinata eyed the space next to him warily, sighed, and then sat down in front of it instead. She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, praying for some Glee reruns to keep her mind off of the glowering boy behind her.

*

"…Hyuuga."

Hinata rolled over in her sleep. "Go away," she muttered to the angry voice that was invading her dreams.

The voice grunted. "Hyuuga! Wake up!"

She turned, her cheek resting gently on his hand. He snatched it away as though it had bitten.

"For the love of—Hyuuga! Wake up!" Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her roughly. Her head bobbed forward limply a few times, and then suddenly, her grey eyes flew open in shock.

She screamed. It was a high-pitched, breathless thing, and anyone nearby would have thought that either a) she was getting raped b) murdered or c) Sasuke had just stripped down to his boxers, layered himself with whipped cream, and demanded she helped wash him up.

"Holy crap! You sound like a frickin' banshee!"

Clapping her hands over her mouth, Hinata shuffled backwards on her carpet, away from him. "Sorry!"

He let her go, rolling his eyes.

"Um…Um—How long was I asleep?" Hinata asked timidly, smoothing her hair (it still felt so strange and light short) back into place.

He shrugged. "Twenty minutes. But Naruto and his annoying league of idiots will be here any second now, so…"

As though on cue, a loud voice sounded through the hall, followed quickly by an annoying, thunderous banging on the door.

"Sasuke? We just heard a girl scream! Who's in there? Are you doing something dirty?"

Sasuke tch-ed and rolled his eyes, looking supremely pissed off. Marching to the door, he flung it open to reveal the group from the café, headed by Naruto, with a few additions.

"Are you trying to get me in trouble?" He opened the door a little wider and motioned inside. Naruto stuck his tongue out at him and slunk inside. He spotted Hinata immediately, who was looking up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Hinata-kun," he said, "Why are you on the floor? Who screamed?"

She blushed—she couldn't very well admit it was her—and picked herself up. Shuffling her feet, she wrinkled her nose to shake out the drowsiness and tried to formulate an excuse.

Sasuke rescued her.

"Naruto, shut up. It was the TV, ever heard of one?"

Hinata sent him a grateful look, and then turned beet red again when Naruto grabbed her by the hand. Dragging her to the beds, where the others had already taken their seats, he grinned widely and began a whole new set of introductions.

"Here are the promised lovely ladies, Hinata-kun!"

He pointed them out one by one, starting with a tough-looking brunette with pigtails. "Tenten." Next was a curvy, tall sophomore named Temari, a thin, blue-eyed blonde named Ino, and finally a short, cute girl with bubble-gum pink hair, named, befittingly, Sakura.

Sakura nestled close to Naruto, although her line of vision kept straying, of course, to Sasuke. The only girl in the room who wasn't gaping openly at Sasuke, actually, was Temari, who didn't seem the slightest bit interested in him and, instead, kept shooting devious glances behind her where Kiba, Shikamaru and Shino were busy arguing.

Naruto grinned widely and gave Sakura a big hug. "Sakura's mom was the social worker who found Jiraiya for me! We've been friends forever!"

Sakura giggled and blushed, and then proceeded to give Naruto an efficient uppercut to the chin.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, reaching out a manicured hand. Hinata shook it with a warm smile.

"Pleasure's all mine." Sakura seemed nice, she thought—nicer than any of the girls she'd known back in high school. Then again, Hinata couldn't help but be a little jealous of her—and the way Naruto seemed to just lather her with attention.

_Don't be silly, _she reminded herself. _You've just met. You're a boy. You can't like him._

Naruto chuckled, and again, she could see the sun in his smile. He opened up a bulging backpack and drew out a few bags of chips and then—_le gasp—_a few bottles of sake.

Hinata had never even tasted alcohol before. The mere sight of it made her nervous and reminded her of _D.A.R.E. _officers.

"Um," she murmured, "Are you guys going to…drink that in here?"

Temari laughed, motioning for Naruto to hand her a cup. "Of course, hon."

Naruto grinned and began passing the bottle around. The group formed a circle in the room, sipping and chatting, although Tenten's voice seemed to grow progressively louder and Sakura seemed to be finding everything Kiba said hilarious. Only Sasuke seemed completely unaffected.

Hinata stared blankly at the still full cup in her hand, watching her reflection ripple over the surface. Sasuke sighed moodily, tracing patterns in the carpet.

Naruto, naturally, would have none of this. "You guys. Are prudes! Celebrate. Relax! We're in college now, so have some fun and live a little!"

Of course, he'd been speaking about twice as loudly as normal, so the rest of the group turned to look at them, raised their cups, and began hitting them with the most profession barrage of peer pressure Hinata had ever encountered.

Embarrassed, Hinata grabbed the small cup and quickly downed it. It burned and bubbled down her throat. It was bitter and overall not very good, but then Sasuke followed suit and, in a single friendly moment, rolled his eyes at her.

_Oh, it's on._

Immediately, a warm sensation bubbled down her throat and settled in her stomach. Her body tingled a little, and she sputtered as she reached for another drink. Sasuke snatched the bottle away and filled his cup too, eyeing her as they knocked back a second shot.

It made her a little more confident, and she began chatting with Tenten, who looked absolutely horrified (Shino had started humming Bach tunes again and was now attempting to add lyrics to them ad lib).

*

By the fifth shot, Hinata decided that she was having a great time. The bottle was empty, and Naruto, who was swaying a bit, lifted it up like a prize.

"Spin the bottle?" he asked drunkenly.

Sasuke closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "There are more guys than girls, dobe," he said, "Unless you wanna make out with Akamaru."

Hinata chuckled, curling up on herself and rolling onto her back. Naruto puffed out his cheeks, looking adorably affronted.

"Fine, then." He sighed and spun the bottle experimentally. "Then how's about Truth or Dare?"

The group gave an uproarious "Yeah!" and reorganized themselves into a circle (with much staggering, giggling, and hiccupping.)

Naruto spun the bottle vigorously. It landed on Kiba. "Hmmm…okay, Kiba!" Naruto said, pointing. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Kiba said automatically. Naruto pursed his lips in thought, and then jumped up awkwardly as an idea hit him. Prying one of his shoes off, he turned up the sole to Kiba and commanded,

"Lick this spot."

Without a second's hesitation, Kiba leaned over to lick it. Naruto and Sakura began laughing hysterically.

"I-I-I," Naruto said, trying to get his sentence out admidst his giggles, "I stepped in dog crap this morning…!"

Immediately, Kiba raced into the bathroom and didn't come out for thirty minutes. Naruto sat up, wheezing. "Hey? Where'd he go? He's supposed to spin!" Naruto shrugged, and then let it rip.

"Lee! Truth or dare?"

The bowl-cut Rock Lee sat up bone-straight. He, of all the students, had not been allowed anywhere _near _the alcohol. "Truth."

"Not that I'm not okay with it, cuz we're bros and all, but…are you gay? And _why do you always wear that spandex?_"

Lee looked affronted, his mouth forming into a perfect 'M' shape. "Naruto-kun, my heart is wholly devoted to the lovely Sakura-chan. As for my clothes," he gestured down his body, "Are they not youthful?"

No one chose to comment.

Lee spun the bottle feeling rather triumphant. "Shikamaru! Would you like to speak the truth, or take the daring dare?"

Shikamaru looked up from his comfortable position on the floor (facedown, away from the troublesome people around him.) "Ugh. As long as I don't have to get up." Pause. "Truth, I guess."

"Temari, or Ino?"

Both blondes turned to look pointedly at Shikamaru, eyebrows raised sky-high.

Without batting a lash, Shikamaru replied, "Neither. Too troublesome," and went back to sleep.

Not knowing whether or not they'd been verbally bitch-slapped, Temari and Ino took to glaring down at Shikamaru's snoring form and avoiding each other's gazes.

Somehow, amidst his dreams, Shikamaru managed to mumble, "Sakura, truth or—"

"Dare." She cut him off.

"Seven minutes in heaven with Lee," Shikamaru muttered, and then promptly konked out for good. Sakura shrugged, looking like she'd expected something like this, and grabbed Lee's arm. Lee wiggled his massive eyebrows, looking quite pleased with himself, and followed her.

They emerged _fifteen _minutes later, looking suspiciously flushed, and Lee had a slightly dazed look on his face and kept babbling incessantly about the beauty of youth.

"Naruto-kun," Sakura drawled, pointing accusingly at the blonde, "I dare you to go to the room next door, and propose to whoever opens the door."

Naruto blanched. "But that's Zabuza and Haku's room!"

Kiba shrugged. "Pray that Haku opens up. He's pretty enough for you to _pretend."_

"I didn't even choose yet!"

Sakura shrugged. "You'd have taken a dare. You _always _take dares."

"Maybe I'll mix it up this time!" he retorted indignantly.

They continued arguing for another ten minutes, at which point Sakura bitch-slapped Naruto and demanded that he go next door and propose to whoever opened up.

Sasuke and Hinata shot each other knowing glances. Their neighbor was a behemoth.

So, when Naruto returned and retreated to the corner to curl up in a fetal position and rock himself, they could only chuckle at his misfortune.

The game continued, and by the end of the night, Hinata had kissed Tenten on the cheek, Sasuke had told everyone in the room that he still slept with his toy rabbit "Bun-bun", and Ino had given a very much asleep Shikamaru a lap dance. And by the time the clock struck 3 am, they were all spent.

So, like many drunk kids do when they've done far too much partying in far too short a period of time, all of them forgot that they were supposed to leave and passed out on the floor.

Somehow, Hinata ended up with her head snuggled into Sasuke's chest, and fell asleep to him murmuring, "I love you, bun-bun" in her ears.

3


	5. Chapter 5

3  
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Bun-bun was a wonderful extra. Didn't get it from Ouran—I actually got it from this HILARIOUS manga, ½ Prince. Don't read if you don't want to end up staring stupidly at a screen for four hours. It's addictive and hilarious.

I'm going to start deviating a wee bit from KuroShinzuiOokami's original College Quirks. If anyone (ESP Kuro) doesn't like this, just let me know and I'll lay off. :D

THANKS!

Disclaimer: After spending all of 60 seconds attempting to come up with a quirky, intelligent, sarcastic, odd or simply outrageous disclaimer statement, I finally give up. I don't own Naruto. T_T

Chapter Four

That night, Hinata had a dream.

In it, she was a girl again, her dark hair long, flowing, and straightened, wearing her tattered Chicago Bulls hoodie and a pleated skirt. Her drawing pad, usually in her lap, was lying somewhere on the grass to her right, something else having replaced it.

Beautiful black eyes stared up at her and squinted with a smile. The face they belonged to smiled as well, dimples lining his cheeks.

And then, she woke up.

Someone had turned on the lights. It was far too bright, almost blinding, and her head pounded horribly. It took her a moment to realize that it was just the sun peeking innocently through the blinds. Groaning aloud, she found her cheek pressed to the carpet. Her entire body felt stiff and numb and horrible. Why did anyone ever  
drink if this was how they felt the next morning? She tried to pull herself up, but someone groaned and pulled her back down.

It was then that she noticed that Sasuke was….was….cuddling her.

In fact, he was using her thighs as his pillow.

She nearly screamed, but the sound died in her throat when her head pounded again. Carefully, she pried his arms off of her, praying that he wouldn't wake up. He'd surely accuse her of trying to get frisky with him if he did.

Free, she stumbled into the bathroom and frisked the medicine cabinet for something, anything, to make her feel better. Her classmates in high school had all had some experience, on and off, with alcohol— she'd listened a few times to their strange tales and always felt oddly superior to them when they'd bragged about their drunken misadventures and ear-splitting hangovers.

_What kind of medicine cabinet has no medicine?  
_  
Vaguely, she remembered someone saying something about Gatorade helping. Her Bio teacher-- something about replacing electrolytes. Rushing to the fridge, she pulled out the humongous two liter bottle she'd bought at Sam's before coming, and, unscrewing the cap, drank in gulps from the bottle.

After a few minutes, her head cleared and she took a moment to look around. She was the first person awake, apparently—Sasuke had curled in on himself in a corner, and the girls—Temari, Tenten, and Sakura— were draped across each other like preschoolers at naptime. Shikamaru looked the same—flat on his back and half-dead, and Shino was sitting up, his back on the wall (really, she wasn't sure whether he was asleep or not, with those shades on). Naruto took up the most space, spread out like a snow-angel on the floor, while the wise Kiba and Rock Lee had grabbed the beds.

She couldn't help but smile. She almost felt like she had friends, good friends. Friends who were comfortable enough to be so _vulnerable_ around her.

She felt like a jerk for lying to them. The girls would hate her if they found out that their precious Sasuke was rooming with another woman. They'd call her a tramp and present her to the headmaster, who would promptly throw her out. She'd be defamed, instantly, and her dreams would go spiraling down the toilet in seconds.

For now, though, she'd try her hardest to avoid that.

Sasuke woke first, groaning aloud as he was hit full force with his hangover. Groggily, he looked up at her, winced, and tottered off to the bathroom as well.

He emerged fifteen minutes later, water dripping down his face. Noticing the half-empty bottle of blue Gatorade clutched in her hand, Sasuke snatched it away and downed it, gulping it as though it were his life's liquid. She watched him numbly, too tired to complain.

"Godammit," he said under his breath, seeing the mess of bottles, cups, and teenagers sprawled across his room. He glanced at his watch, grimaced, and handed the Gatorade back to Hinata wordlessly. "These useless—"

Walking over to Naruto, he kicked him in the side. "Wake up, dobe."

The blonde rolled over, grinning stupidly. Naruto never got hangovers. "Hahaha. Sasuke. Will you ever let us meet Bun-bun?"

Sasuke turned red, and then groaned as his head pounded again. "Don't screw with me. Time to go."

He walked over to each sleeping student and nudged them awake, leading them to the door. The girls dragged their feet, still joined at the hip, and Sasuke had to push them out sideways.

When the last straggler was finally shoved out into the hall, he closed the door tightly behind them, exhaling slowly and sinking to his knees on the carpet.

"What time is it?" he said. His voice was weak.

Hinata glanced at her watch. "9:30," she said quietly.

Sasuke swore, and then drew himself up from the floor. Almost automatically, he started to undress. He threw his shirt carelessly over his shoulder. It landed with a thud at her feet.

This was normal amongst boys, Hinata remembered. If she was really going to try being a girl, she had to get used to seeing him so...bare.

His jeans landed in front of her next. She stared dumbly down at them, her befuddled mind somehow connecting that if his pants were here and not on him---

_Oh._

OH.

Tearing her eyes away, Hinata walked calmly toward her bed, pulled her clothes out of her cupboard, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Where she spent the next ten minutes trying to staunch her nosebleed.

*  
Drama. Studio 8. Hatake Kakashi.

Hinata repeated the words like a mantra, if only to help keep her mind off of the fact that she felt like she was walking through a pit of sludge. Her body just wasn't cooperating well with her, and her massive blood loss hadn't been much help.

She walked into her drama class feeling a little better, but still wishing she could curl into bed, swearing to herself that she'd never, ever drink again.

Kiba tossed her a broad smile and waved her over. She glared enviously-- apparently he was blessed with Naruto's ability to dodge hangovers-- and took a seat next to him.

"That was fun last night, huh?" he said brightly. "We should do it again sometime."

Hinata winced. She'd never noticed how unbearably loud he was.

Kiba noticed and brought his voice down to a whisper. "Oops. Sorry." He chuckled. "I told Naruto we shouldn't give a sweet little guy like you a drink." He looked at her quizzically and pursed his lips in thought. "I mean, how old are you, Hina?"

She frowned, suddenly realizing where this was going. Her hands jumped to her neck, where she knew there was no prominent, telling Adam's apple.

He thought she was pre-pubescent.

Flustered, she stammered, "I'm eighteen!" and buried her face in her hands.

Kiba opened his mouth to apologize, but at that moment, a young-looking man with spiky silver and a mask covering the bottom half of his face strolled in. He lifted a hand in greeting.

"Sorry I'm late, class," he announced, his eyes crinkling in a smile. "I had to help an old woman get her cat out of a tree."

He looked right and left, as though expecting someone to call him out on his obvious lie. When no one did, he introduced himself-- Hatake Kakashi, second-dan black belt and co-head of the drama department, and also their new professor.

"Since this is a level A drama class, you'll be doing a lot of grunt work for our plays," he informed the class coolly. "You can try out for our productions, but most of the spots will be claimed by members of our acting troupes. As freshmen," he said brightly, "You'd be lucky to get cast as a tree."

It was strange how he could say something potentially offensive in such a good-natured way. Most of the class nodded and smiled in understanding.

"Good, then," he said. "We'll be starting our first project today. My lovely assistant here'll tell you the details." Gesturing toward the man sitting backwards in his seat next to him, Kakashi gave the room a thumbs up and cruised out the door.

With an exaggerated sigh, the teaching assistant stood, sending his rolling chair wheeling toward the wall.

Hinata sucked in a quick breath, and then masked it with a yawn when Kiba turned to look at her.

Like Sasuke, this guy was tall and slender, with shoulders just broad enough to be telling of his gender, and a face that was both pretty and masculine. His hair was almost as long as hers had once been, blonde, and bone-straight, with half tossed up in a ponytail.

He swished his hair out of his eyes.

Damn beautiful artists.

"Erm," he started, "Looks like I'm going to be taking care of you guys, hunh?" He shrugged his shoulders back. "I'm Deidara, your TA. Erm, find a group of three, ne?"

Hinata turned to Kiba, who gave her a thumbs-up. Then, he began to scout the rest of the room for their third member.

Someone on the other side of the room yelled, "Won't there be one group of two, then?"

Deidara looked puzzled for a moment, did a quick headcount, shrugged, and said, "Well, damn. I'll join that group, then."

By the way he said it, everyone figured that he definitely wouldn't do any work. Immediately, they scrambled out of their seats, searching for a loner to join them.

Hinata, spotting a dark-haired, eerily grinning boy in the corner, headed toward him, lifting her hand to beckon him.

Someone grabbed it.

"Who're you working with?" Deidara asked. She wheeled around to face him, and then gasped when his fingers gripped more tightly.

"K-Kiba," she stammered, finding the scruffy-haired boy in the crowd and pointing him out.

"I'm joining your group," he said matter-of-factly. It wasn't a request or even a suggestion--- it was a fact.

She pressed her lips together and cleared her throat. "Why?" she asked, trying to bring her pitch down to a manly grumble.

A bit of color rose to his cheeks.

"Cuz Smiley just got taken." Hinata turned to look, and lo and behold, the smiling kid had been swallowed up by two stoic boys who looked suspiciously identical to him. "C'mon. You should be honored to work with me on your first assignment, yea."

Hinata shrugged, and then waved Kiba over, who looked rather defeated upon seeing Deidara behind her.

"Wait, weren't we supposed to find someone else, Hinata?"

Deidara's expression turned sour. "Hey, twerp. Be respectful to your elders, yea?"

Kiba glared up at the blonde, shrugged, and then slumped into a seat.

Deidara procured a hat and began passing it along the groups.

"Reach in, grab your scene-- they're all from A Midsummer Night's Dream-- if you don't know what that is by now, you deserve to have your acceptance letter shoved down your little maggot throats. The rough description of what you'll be making is on the desk. You'll be using any of the materials you can find in this studio-- and in this  
studio alone." His visible eye glinted mischievously.

After a few minutes, he handed the hat to Hinata. Tentatively, she reached in and pulled out a small, pink slip. Before she could read it, Deidara snatched it from her.

"Oooh," he said, grinning. "A glimmering forest. Romantic and complicated. It'll take a few nights outside of class for this one, hunh, Hinata?"

Kiba groaned aloud. "Seriously? But I have--!"

Deidara cut him off with a suspicious grin. "That's okay. Hinata and I can take care of it." He turned to Hinata with a waggle of his brow. "Won't we, Hinata-kun?"

Shuddering, Hinata nodded. No matter how she thought of it--

--this guy sounded like a pervert.

**

Her day couldn't be worse. Staring down at the syllabus in her hand, Hinata grit her teeth and resisted-- with all her strength-- banging her head against the wall.

She'd known that her scholarships didn't cover everything. The tuition, room and board, yes, but the stipend she'd spent already on her supplies.

No mealplan, though. And definitely not enough to buy the camera Kurenai wanted all of her students to own.

She needed to get a job, and soon. She had already put in an application for one of the school's work-study jobs, but this was an emergency-- she needed that money as soon as possible.

Sasuke wasn't back from rehearsal yet. Doubtless, he and his troupe had finished their short bout with Lear and were planning to do Midsummer. She wondered who he was playing. Puck? No. He wasn't sprightly enough. Naruto, if anyone, would make the best Puck just by disposition. He'd probably be Demetrius-- cold, handsome, and obstinate about getting his hands on his desires.

Sighing, Hinata tossed her sketchpad onto her bed and squeezed her feet into a pair of sneakers. There were jobs available just outside the campus. Instead of laying around and getting wasted with her crazy friends, she'd spend her free time working... somewhere.

It was past five, cool and crisp, and the courtyard was full of lounging guys. She lifted her hoodie over her head, stuffing her hands into the pockets. It wasn't job-interview attire, but she was just a college kid looking to be a waitress or something. They wouldn't ask questions, and neither would she.

After a few hours of idle perusing, she found a small cafe with a help wanted sign in the window. Stepping in, she found herself in a dark, slightly smoky room. A stage was in the back corner, and a girl with long, blond-brown dreadlocks strummed her guitar lazily and crooned into the microphone. The customers were...well, many of them were foreign, a dizzying hodge-podge of shades and colors and features that  
she'd only seen on American movies.

Stealthily, to keep from breaking the spell the musician on stage had cast on her audience, she stalked to the back of the room, where she found a waiter and tugged experimentally on his black sleeve.

He turned around and flashed a wide, eerie grin. It was Smiley, from drama. Hopefully, he wouldn't recognize her-- she'd wanted to work as far from school as possible within walking distance.

"Yes?" he stage-whispered.

Taken aback, she clenched her fists at her side. "Can I see your manager?" when his smile grew wider, she quickly added, "I'm going to ask about a job."

Wordlessly, he nodded and led her past the entranced customers, past the faintly illuminated cafe, and to a heavy, officious door.

"Her name's Anko." he said.

"Anko--?"

"Just Anko." With another quick smile, he ducked out of the hall, leaving her alone and a little scared.

She knocked once. A rough, female voice answered.

"Yea?"

Slowly, she opened the door. A woman, presumably Anko, was sprawled out on the black beanbag on her floor, propping her legs way up on her desk. Her skirt settled right at the base of her thighs, barely concealing the long legs she showed off so confidently.

"I'm here to ask about a job opening?"

Anko glanced at her, and then stood up straight. She was wearing a jacket and a perfectly see-through fishnet underneath...

And no bra. Hinata stared in open horror and envy at the woman's generous-- assets.

"Eyes up here, kiddo," Anko said, as easily as if she said it every day. Then again, she probably did.

Hinata turned bright red. "Sorry! I didn't mean--!"

Anko chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Don't bust an artery." Her hand slid to Hinata's cheek, which she tapped teasingly. "Such an innocent little girl, hunh?"

Her blush intensified to an unhealthy looking puce. "I'm not a--"

That was when Anko unabashedly reached over and pinched her butt.

Hinata squealed aloud, almost passing out from embarrassment. Glaring up at the woman, she quickly brought her hands to her chest before she could try and grope those too.

Anko laughed aloud. "Arent you a bit too curvy to be cross-dressing? Or are you planning to surge?"

This was too much. "Yes! No! I mean--!"

Anko clucked her tongue. "Listen, kiddo, if you want to be real convincing, find yourself some bigger pants. Not too big--- but, are these skinny jeans?"

Hinata looked down at herself. She'd always thought jeans were jeans, and she still needed to wash her more manly ones.

"No," she murmured, "They're just old."

Anko laughed. "So, Mr.-Miss. You hear for a job, or should I go ahead and continue pointing out all of the failures in your plan?" Her eyes narrowed, and she tsked again. "Wait. Is that the Aoi dorm ensignia? Don't tell me you go to---"

Once she understood, she laughed aloud, leaning onto her desk for support. Hinata watched, torn between being hurt or confused by the woman's amusement. Really, was it that funny that she wanted to follow her dream?

Wiping tears from her eyes, Anko grinned widely at Hinata.

"Okay. I'll give you a job. But, one thing before you go."

Elated? Terrified? Her emotions were so muddled nowadays. "Um...sure?"

Anko ran a finger suggestively down the curve of Hinata's neck. "Off with those clothes."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

A/N: New characters! This chappie is slightly more serious (tone-wise. _I _still think it's funny) than the previous ones. Let me know whether you prefer this latest change, or whether you want me to switch back. I'm better at serious, I think-- though I can do snarky in small doses.

Thanks, and make sure to R&R!! I'll update much faster if you do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Naruto, etc., is not mine. This super tasty yummy delicious hunk o' Galaxy chocolate, however, most definitely is. (YUM!)

****

Chapter Six

"Excuse me?"

What was with this lady? Hinata had figured she was a bit more touchy-feely than most people, and maybe a wee bit of a dominatrix (There was a whole assortment of handcuffs, some encrusted with rhinestones, hanging from hooks on her desk) but this was a bit much.

Anko rolled her eyes. "We're both ladies here. I have an extra uniform here-- try it on. What do you mean bathroom? Are you ashamed of your own body?"

Slowly, Hinata peeled off her sweater, then her shirt. She sighed. The bindings were painful and restrictive, and lately it was becoming exceedingly uncomfortable to wear them. Then, she took the uniform right out of Anko's hands, expecting a plain black get-up like Smiley's. Instead, she unfolded a navy blue sailor suit, complete with  
a skirt so short Hinata could almost feel the breeze sweep past her legs even without it on, and-- was that hair?

Blushing madly, she handed them back.

"Anko-san! I'm trying to keep my cover!" she said in shock. "I can't wear something that--!" Lowering her voice, she added, "One of your workers is in my Drama class—he'd recognize me!"

Anko grinned widely. "Sai? He won't tell a soul. He probably already knows-- nothing gets by that kid." lifting a brow, she added, "I'll put makeup on you. Give you contacts for those pretty little white eyes. They wouldn't recognize you until you told them."

Hinata shook her head vigorously. "Anko-san, this is my dream! I want to be an artist, and this is the best place for me! I can improve, I can become really, really good, I can--"

Anko sighed. "I'm not trying to screw you over, kiddo. I'll make sure no one knows."

There was something strangely reassuring in her gaze and the way she drew her shoulders back defiantly. Hinata calmed down a bit, glaring up at her new employer with mostly feigned distrust.

"What would I be doing?" she finally asked, taking the uniform back.

Anko grinned, knowing she'd won. "Two jobs at once, actually, though the second will require no effort."

Hinata pursed her lips. "Oh?"

With a flourish, Anko drew out a magazine and flipped to a random page, then slammed it triumphantly onto her desk. The spread was black and silver, and across the page were a series of rather garish outfits, most of them lacy, sequined, or covered in chains. In one corner, Hinata spotted the sailor suit.

"All my creations," Anko said proudly. "You'll be wearing them, every day, when you come to work. I want you here by seven from Monday to Thursday, and report to my room when you do." She paused. "Do you think you can handle that?"

Hinata nodded slowly, staring with horror at one which looked like a leotard fashioned from fishnets.

"Good," she said, "We'll start you out at __ yen an hour."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hinata dragged herself back to the door, looking rather disturbed and disheveled. Anko had paraded her about in the most outrageous, revealing clothes possible, clipped extensions into her hair, stuck multiple colored contacts into her eyes until they were red, watery, and sore, and put her in platform heels so tall that her ankles and feet hurt.

Within the hour, Hinata decided that Anko was a demon if she'd ever seen one. Initially, the plan was to try on the sailor suit first (which ended up being the most appropriate of the clothes) and do the rest tomorrow. After she'd worn it, though,  
Anko had gotten a strange, violent glint in her eyes and proceeded to keep her captive until every one of her creations had been shoved onto her.

She opened the door to her dorm slowly, dragging herself in and toward her bed. The bathroom light was on-- Sasuke was already home. Tossing her bag down, she leaned over to pick up her sketchbook and felt a softness press into her arm.

Her bindings. Tied in a hurry, they'd slid from her chest and gathered around her waist under her shirt, bunching uncomfortably. She panicked. Sasuke was in the bathroom. In a minute, he'd be out, and would immediately notice that his roommate had spontaneously grown breasts. She couldn't very well change right then, could she? If he walked out while she changed, he'd have undeniable evidence that she was a girl.

Thinking fast, she grabbed her largest winter jacket and wore it, zipping it up to her neck, and then busied herself by playing with her pencils.

Barely seconds after she'd squeezed into it, Sasuke emerged, hair wet.

"Where were you?" he hissed, sounding oddly aggravated. She wondered whether he was still suffering from his hangover.

"Somewhere," she murmured.

For a moment, he looked affronted by her sarcasm. Upon actually looking at her, however, he did a double-take. "It's burning hot in here. Why are you wearing that?"

Hinata looked down at her jacket, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. "I just got back," she managed clumsily.

He didn't buy it. "Well, take it off. I'm getting uncomfortable just looking at you."

The moment he turned, she made a beeline for the bathroom, changing speedily.

When she stepped out, jacket draped over an arm, he was waiting for her. Holding up her sketchbook, a very strange expression on his face. Solemn, maybe. Grim.

She paled. He'd gotten so angry the first time he'd caught her sketching him, so she had taken to doing so overtly.

The shock she felt quickly turned to anger however. How dare he just rifle through her stuff without her permission? She wished she had his sharp mouth and icy glare so that she could fully rebuke him.

Instead, Hinata gaped wordlessly as he turned around to face her. His eyes were inexplicably sad.

"I like this one," he said.

Slowly, Hinata inched over to see which he was talking about. It was a snapshot of her dream, transferred to paper. With the girl leaning leisurely against a tree, eyes closed, while Sasuke lay back like a child in her lap. It exuded a very calm aura, but still, it was a rough sketch and a cheesy idea. If anything, he should've been furious  
that she'd drawn him with a girl-- especially one who, minus the long hair, was an exact replica of Hinata herself--, not looking at it so wistfully.

"You... Do?" Hinata mouthed in disbelief.

He shrugged. "She isn't jumping me, or trying to steal my pants. She's staring off, enjoying the flowers. I look really... Peaceful."

This was so uncharacteristic of him. For a moment, she considered checking for an alien earworm or something, or ask whether he'd borrowed some more of Naruto's booze. Except he looked so serious, so morose, that she figured he must not be lying.

He handed it to her. "Finish it."

Her blush deepened. "I-I don't--!"

He raised a brow. "I want it. Make it a gift to a friend."

A friend. So they were friends. All the blood rushing to her head was making her feel faint. Sasuke Uchiha-- this beautiful creature she could call her roommate-- also thought of her as a friend. How could it be? He'd always been so cold, or if not, distant.

And then she remembered the way Sasuke had kicked Naruto in the gut to wake him up, and realized that maybe, just maybe, his harsh behavior was a way of showing affection.

She giggled.

He was such a child.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Kiba sat on the floor, a paintbrush clenched in his fist as he looked at the spectacle around him with a mixture of exasperation and confusion. At his feet were a huge slab of canvas, probably worth more than his entire collection of shoes, wall paint, acrylics, and a hodge--podge of different brushes in many sizes and colors. Hinata  
stood a few feet away, looking a little terrified, as their T.A. flitted about and dumped more and more expensive materials at their feet, effectively screwing the other groups over.

"I-I think that's enough, Deidara-san," Hinata said, after Deidara started hauling buckets of pearl accents from the staff supply closet. He froze mid-step, and then trotted up to Hinata with all of the airs of a besmitten pup.

"Do you think so? I think you're right, yeah." he paused to sweep his hair behind him. "What color should this scene be?"

"Violet, teals, and blues?" Kiba offered. Deidara didn't bother to acknowledge him.

Hinata colored, looked back at her seething friend, and whispered, "Violet, teal, and blue."

Deidara's face lit up. "Just what I was thinking!" he said, sweeping Hinata's hand into his own. "We're a team made in heaven."

Hinata tried to pull away, but the guy had a killer grip. She laughed nervously, murmured something about Kiba being far too close to the paint fumes and scuttled over to him.

"We need cloth," Kiba said slowly, "That way we can just unfurl the back drop when the scenes change."

Hinata opened her mouth, about to express her acquiescence, when Deidara scowled and dismissed the idea with a flip of his hair.

"The easy way out is often the sloppiest." He moved his bang away from his left eye, exposing a star shaped patch. "We don't do sloppy, dogboy."

Kiba bristled. "What do you suppose we do, then, honorable upperclassman?"

Deidara pointed to the massive, intimidating canvas.

"You can do the trees, dogboy," he said condescendingly, "Me and Hina will go get more supplies."

He beckoned Hinata over seductively. Shyly, Hinata shuffled over, barely concealing an 'eep' when he draped an arm over her shoulders.

Kiba glowered up at the TA with such a wild ferocity that Hinata shuddered. But Deidara, who seemed to be immune to other's bad vibes, kept laughing and talking all the way to the storeroom.

"Deidara-san? Do you--?"

He turned to her, smiling brightly. "Yeah?"

_Do you like me?  
_  
"--want a bite of my sandwich?"

His face brightened, and he hastily grabbed the PB&J from Hinata's hands while the shy girl twiddled her thumbs. As a girl, she'd never recieved even half the attention that this guy was showering on her. Was she only appealing as a guy? Life was so  
unfair.

"Deidara-san, please excuse this question," Hinata said shakily, feeling the bile rise in her throat. "A-are you gay?"

Deidara stopped mid-sentence, raised a brow suggestively, and gave the worst answer possible for the situation.

"Only for you, Hina-kun."

At which point Hinata promptly fainted.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sasuke paced back and forth across the room, waiting impatiently for his stupid roommate to come back to the room. He'd lived by himself for just about as long as he could remember and found it perfectly manageable, but ever since he started coming to Tokyo, he'd found himself feeling strangely antsy whenever his horribly girly roommate wasn't around.

It was annoying. Hinata looked and acted too much like a girl- exactly his _type of girl_. Forget shrieking, hitting Sakura, forget any of those bimbos disguised as Bohemians-- he needed someone level-headed, or at least sane. Cute, too (not too pretty. He planned on making up for whatever his partner lacked in the looks department. She only had to be endearing.)

And Hinata filled all of those requirements. Except he was a guy.

But that little blush was so cute, and he was so soft and sweet that he reminded him of Bun-bun, who had never failed to make him happy. Unable to say no. Quick-witted (sometimes), but more willing to get hurt than hurt others.

Even physically, he was kind of attracted. The other day, when Hinata had crashed on top of his bed, a stray hand had crept up to scratch his belly. Drowsily, he'd pushed his shirt almost up to his ribs. He was unsurprised to see that he was soft like a girl, curved like a girl. Sasuke had watched in awe until he pulled his shirt back down again and rolled back to sleep.

"Does that mean I'm gay?" Sasuke mused aloud, unabashed. It made sense. He'd been pursued by more girls than he could count, but had never been even remotely interested. Then again, he'd never been particularly into guys either.

"Maybe asexual?" he said, scratching his chin as though the topic were completely natural.

At that exact moment, someone pounded on the door. Sasuke groaned aloud, mussed his hair, and pondered on the pros and cons of opening it-- his cute roomie always knocked quietly. It was most likely Naruto or Kiba... Or someone equally obnoxious.

He opened the door, horribly surprised when, instead of the loud-mouthed dobe, he saw a tall, very good-looking blonde...holding Hinata in his arms.

"He passed out," the guy said nonchalantly. "I was going to take him home, but I thought I'd ask his roomie first."

Sasuke glowered. "Why? I'm not his mother."

Deidara raised a brow. "So you don't care if I take the little guy home with me?"

Hinata stirred in Deidara's arms, murmured something unintelligible, and snuggled closer to his chest. Sasuke flushed red.

"No, I don't!"

Deidara shrugged, looking far too content with the idea. "Well," he said with a wink, "I'll just take this cute fellow back with me, then?"

He waited for all of three seconds before turning away from the door. "Well, thanks."

It took Sasuke about three minutes to realize how big of a mistake he'd just made, and by that time Deidara was already half away across the campus, a decided spring in his already light step.

She woke, of course, halfway to his room. Looking up, she caught his wide blue eyes and responded with a quick jab to his jaw, a disabling move that should have cracked it had he not been so nimble. With a yelp, he dropped her, and in her drowsy state, she whipped into a stance.

"I-I look small," she said, eyes still hazy from their recent rest, "But I'm a black belt in judo."

"Easy, Hina-kun," he said, wiping the blood from his split lip onto his sleeve. "Just me."

Awareness flickered back into her eyes, and she quickly bowed over in embarrassment.

"Sorry!" she said aloud, her forehead almost brushing the sidewalk. "I didn't mean--"

Deidara waved her off. "No matter," he said with a smirk, "I knew you were secretly a violent one."

Hinata averted her eyes, her hands already curling toward each other nervously.

That's when Deidara winked again. "I mean, I don't mind it a bit _rough_."

This time, having remembered to breathe properly, Hinata did not pass out.

However, she did sprint off in the opposite direction.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Maybe I'm bi?" Sasuke asked himself, and then remembered that since he didn't like either sex, there was no way he could like both.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"You're late," Anko said dispassionately when Hinata finally huffed and puffed into her office.

"Sorry, I--" Got harrassed by a gorgeous gay blonde guy? Fainted? Punched him out? None of the choices sounded very credible. "Erm...sorry."

Anko withdrew a dress from under her desk, and Hinata winced. Leave it to her new boss to pick out the tightest, leathery, form-fitting ''masterpiece" from her collection.

"On," Anko ordered. When Hinata turned to leave, Anko clucked her tongue. "Here. I brought makeup this time."

Cringing, Hinata shimmied out of her clothes and felt immensely grateful when Anko turned around as she unwound her bindings.

"What are you, a 32C?"

Hinata looked down at her chest. "B, I think," she said quietly.

Anko turned around and looked, at which point Hinata shrieked and covered herself.

"If you want spillage-cleavage, then go B, sure," Anko said, "Though I wouldn't have pegged you as that type of girl."

Hinata flushed. "C-C, then."

A red and black lacy thing flew in front of her. Figuring she'd be far less embarrassed if she didn't look too much at it, Hinata put it on.

Next came the leather corset. The ties were impossible, and the fishnet sleeves took forever to maneuver into, but once on, she supposed Anko had taken her worries to heart. The neckline dipped teasingly close to cleavage, and then arched back up without revealing so much as a shadow. The fishnet undershirt stopped just below her collar.

The skirt itself was pleated and made of a gossamer fabric that seemed to hold itself up, and the black leather platforms were studded with rhinestones and dusted with silver glitter.

_Gaudy_, Hinata thought, _But some guys really dig this stuff._

Anko looked on with all the pride of a new mother. "I knew you'd look good in it," she said confidently. "I've been wanting someone with your babyface to wear this for a while now."

She clapped her hands together, and then pulled Hinata to her seat. Sitting her down, she pulled out a long black wig with silver-blonde streaks and carefully pinned it on to her head. Pleased, she opened an almost bottomless makeup kit and set to decorating Hinata's face like an especially interesting canvas, murmuring things as she went ("Dark angel? Of course. Anko, darling, you are one sexy genius.") After  
choosing a pair of black cosmetic contact lenses (Those would take the longest to get used to), she turned Hinata toward the full-sized mirror opposite them and grinned triumphantly.

Hinata did a double take, nearly tripping in her too-high shoes. Somewhere behind the get-up, she could vaguely recognize the slightly androgynous girl-boy she'd been before, but otherwise, she looked like a completely different person. The thick, smoky eyeshadow made her now-dark eyes look like a faerie's, and the hair, up in long, slightly spiky pigtails, was both school-girl innocent and grungey. Her lips-- she'd always considered them her best feature-- looked glossy and full.

She wasn't the most gorgeous person in the world, but she was definitely attractive, a figure who would turn heads, and, Hinata realized, consequentially help sell Anko's products.

"Just say it," Anko said, rolling her eyes, "You're amazed."

"I am," Hinata breathed.

"Good," she said. "Now, for your name. Unless you want to still go by Hinata?"

Hinata shook her head. "No, definitely not!" she said, suddenly seeing an image of Shikamaru and Shino slinking into the cafe, reading her nametag, and immediately putting two and two together. "How about Megumi?"

Anko gave her a thumbs-down, looking rather disgusted. "You'll never answer to that. Try something close. Like... Hana. Hana-chan."

She hated to admit it, but Anko was right, and she rather liked the name. She nodded slowly, accepting it unto herself.

"Okay, Hana, time to start you up."

They left the office, Hinata watching her feet for any obstacles--honestly, she'd only taken a few steps and already her feet were killing her--, and Anko holding her loosely around the waist. She guided her into the cafe, which was full of many slightly familiar faces, peppered with a few new ones here and there. In the far corner, she spotted Smiley. Bile rose up to her throat. Anko had said he probably already knew, and that he'd never bother telling because he'd find it more interesting to watch her struggle. Still, it felt strange to put so much trust in a perfect stranger, especially one who looked so completely suspicious, what with the false grins all the time. Besides, there was the possibility that he hadn't known at all, and that her entrance would come as a surprise...

Anko beckoned him over. His glance drifted briefly to Hinata, but his expression did not change. With grace Hinata would never have guessed he'd possess, he crossed the room. His black, plain turtleneck was made of a smooth, silky looking fabric, like nylon, probably Anko's contribution.

"You look interesting," he said. His voice was almost monotone, but somehow his words came out blunt.

She frowned. "Is that bad?"

He shook his head. "Not bad. Interesting. It will likely take me a while to get used to you dressed like this." His eyes drifted to her chest. "You're fairly well-endowed. How have you been hiding those?"

Hinata's hands flew up to her chest, covering herself although she was already perfectly decent. Anko punched her employee in the arm.

"Down, boy," Anko said with a grimace, "I'm leaving her in your hands. Show her the ropes. I'll trust you to keep work at work, and if Hana here tells me that you've blown her cover, I'll fire your ass, you hear?"

Smiley did not need to be told twice. He nodded once, and then raised his brow at Hinata. "Rest assured, your obstacles are far too amusing for me," he told her. "Good choice for an alias, by the way, Hana- chan. My name is Sai."

Hinata shook the hand offered her. "Please take care of me!"

Guiding her to the cafe, Sai began the arduous task of teaching the hopelessly clumsy Hinata how to mix the drinks on the menu, then the secret specialty ones that only the regulars knew about. After a couple hours of too-sweet mochas and failed frappacinos, she seemed to get the hang of it, so he showed her her primary job-- waiting the tables.

A majority of the customers ordered directly from the cafe, but if anyone was performing on stage, many stayed seated first. It would be her job to glide silently through the table and take orders without disrupting the show.

By the end of the day, she was hopelessly tired and sorely regretting signing up for a nine o clock class the next day. Sai was nice enough, but brutally honest and an unforgiving teacher. Still, he was a gentleman enough to wait for her to change back into her baggy tee and jeans and wash out every semblance of makeup, and walk with her back to the campus.

"Thank you, Sai-san," Hinata said as she emerged from the bathroom, no longer looking quite so feminine but for the flush on her cheeks.

"No problem," He said, "It is rather interesting to work with you. Deidara-san seems quite smitten with you. Won't he be disappointed if he finds out you're a woman?"

Hinata exhaled. "Deidara-san probably... could care less."

Sai grunted, and then soldiered on silently. For once, he wasn't smiling. Really, without it, he was rather good-looking, with distinct Japanese features and a slim, dancer's physique.

"Why would you go through this trouble, though?" he finally asked. "There's a perfectly good art school or girls a few blocks away."

Hinata sighed. She'd asked herself the same question so many times she'd lost count. "I know. It's a good school, but it's not...the best."

Sai chuckled. "They're not that bad."

Either he didn't understand, or he was just teasing her. She supposed it was the latter, but it was hard not to get a bit flustered. "I like it here."

They'd made it onto the courtyard. Hinata struggled to keep up with Sai's long strides, waiting for his response.

"So you aren't simply here to get close to Uchiha-san?"

Hinata snorted. Had he been waiting to ask that this entire time? "I didn't even know who Sasuke was before coming. Besides, he's very..._odd_."

Her answer seemed to satisfy Sai.

"Ah. I see." They turned to the right, finding themselves in the middle of the square. "Well, Hinata-chan, I suppose this is good night?"

She blushed. "Please don't call me that here," she mumbled.

His mouth didn't move from it's set line, but his eyes laughed heartily. "Oh, sorry. Good night, Hinata-kun."

"'Night," Hinata said.

He'd walked a few steps away when something occurred to her. He was the only one who knew her secret, and yet he'd been so nice to her, questioning her more for his own pleasure than to be accusatory.

"Sai-san!" she called.

He turned, the eerie grin spreading over his face. "Yes?"

She paused, her fingers finding each other and prodding. "We're friends, right?"

He seemed to think about it for a moment. "Yes," he said slowly, "I suppose we are."

It was irrational, she thought, but those words made her chest feel just a tad bit lighter.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

Meanwhile, back at the dorm, someone knocked on the door.

Sasuke swung it open and came face-to-face with Sakura, who looked extremely surprised that he'd responded at all. She opened her mouth to let lose a torrent of "I-love-Sasuke-Uchiha" monologues, when the Uchiha gave her a very serious look.

"Hey, you," he said, naturally having forgotten her name, "Do you think I'm a lesbian?"

Needless to say, a certain pink-haired Haruno tottered out of the room feeling light-headed and wondering where Sasuke was hiding his rack.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**A/N: **I hope this chapter was funny. I really, really, do. Tell me if it isn't.

Anywho, for some reason, writing on my iTouch really helps. I think it's cuz I take it everywhere with me and don't get tired of staring at its itty-bitty screen. This is hands-down the longest CQ chapter I've EVER written. Just didn't know where to cut it.

Like I said, this story will probably start taking a more serious turn, plot-wise. I'll keep it lighthearted and silly, just not as ridiculous as it was before. Why, you ask? Because it's hard to find a decent ending for a just-for-laughs fic, and the plot bunnies are banging like…bunnies in my head. (Jeez. Horrible analogy.)

Also, on a completely unrelated note, if you feel like watching something incredibly immature and hilarious, look up "College humor the assumption song." If you don't find it funny, you're far too old. (Which, in many cases, could be like, 14. :|)


	7. Chapter 7

**EDIT: **I noticed some awkward formatting stuff. Should be gone now. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I wish I may, I wish I might, own Naruto for just one night. Too bad wishes like that one never come true.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o**

**Chapter Seven**

Hinata opened the door, and was only slightly surprised to find darkness. However, when she turned on the light, she wasn't expecting Sasuke to swivel around in a wheeled-chair, arms crossed, shoulders back, and glaring.

Okay, so maybe she did, kind of, see it coming. For the past two weeks, if she ever came late from work, he'd tossed her a vicious glare or say something extraordinarily prick-tastic, and if she was there before he came back from rehearsal, he'd ask to do something she wanted to-- like watch Glee reruns-- or even offer himself as a model. Or force her to work on his 'present.'

But wasn't this a bit much?

"Where have you been?" he asked with all the dramatics of a lonely, newly wed housewife.

"Work," Hinata answered truthfully. She shrugged off her jacket and dumped it on her bed. Sasuke stepped in after her, grabbed her shoulder and wheeled her around to face him.

"You're lying," he said, his gaze steely. Ordinarily, Hinata would be affronted by such an unfounded accusation, but at that moment, Sasuke ran his thumb slowly over her bottom lip.

It took all of her will and self-control to keep from fainting again. He was so close-- she could feel the ghost of his breath on her lips, and he smelled good, like he'd just shaved. His gaze was ardent, brow furrowed, and if she leaned any closer, maybe, just maybe...

He pulled his hand back, lifting his thumb for her to see.

"Lip gloss," he observed distantly. "You have to wear lip gloss for work?"

Oh no. Her heart plummeted from its perch in the sky. He knew. Why else would he be asking so many questions? Why torment her like this?

"Yes," she croaked softly, closing her eyes as she waited for the coup d'état. His eyebrows knitted together, his jaw tensed...

"You've been kissing a girl!"

Hinata froze, lifting her head from her hands. H-h-he thought---!

"Using work as a cover so you can go make out with some whore-- I didn't think you were that kind of guy, Hinata!"

Recovering with a quick shake, Hinata retorted, "I haven't! This is for work!"

He didn't look like he believed her. "What kind of job requires you wear lip gloss?"

She blanched. She'd never been a particularly good liar-- honestly, it was a good thing no one had outright questioned her gender yet.

So she told the truth.

Kind of.

"I work at The Serpent. My boss..." she paused, looking embarrassed, "Thinks I have a cute face, so she likes to dress me up."

"That hipster cafe?" Sasuke said after a moment. He'd obviously been there before, because he shuddered visibly. Anko must have attacked him.

His face hardened again. "Isn't it a blow to your masculinity to wear makeup?"

Her eyes narrowed with real annoyance. "Don't you wear your stage makeup during performances?"

Sasuke froze--she was right, of course.

"That's completely different."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and suddenly he was hit with an unfortunately familiar sensation that made him want to grab the cute little guy and do horrible, aggressive-seme things to him. Blushing, he turned away.

"I want to see."

Hinata nearly stopped breathing, her tongue still half out of her mouth. "w-what?"

He leered at her. "You could be making this up. I want to see for myself. I'm coming with you to work tomorrow."

Her throat went dry. No. This couldn't be happening...

"...and maybe I'll bring the guys with. They've been wanting to do something fun for a while."

No, no, no.

"You can't," she said. Forgetting herself, she let her girl voice slip in, an octave higher than it should be. "I-I don't want you to."

He raised an eyebrow teasingly. "I'm a paying customer, Hinata. You can't exactly keep me out."

He was right. She couldn't.

Dammit.

*

"He's coming over tonight?"

Hinata clutched her phone to her ear like a lifeline, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Sai was on the other end, no doubt grinning like an idiot over her troubles.

"Y-yes. He says he's bringing Naruto and the others with him, too! They can't see Hana--!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "I can imagine Dickless' face when he realizes you have breasts."

Hinata could see it too. So he didn't exactly look disappointed in her mind, but Naruto was a loudmouth. If he found out, the whole school found out.

Which was BAD. Very, very bad.

"What should I do?" she asked, her voice breathy and panicked.

There was a second of silence. Then...

"Just do what you always do. Be a guy."

Of course. How had she not thought of it? She'd just wear a uniform like the one Sai sported, plain black and simple. Hinata nearly laughed at her own blindness.

But then a thought occurred to her. She quickly cursed herself for being so damn transparent.

"Wait, Sai," she said, "I kind of already told Sasuke that Anko dresses me up. I can't possibly wear your uniform-- it's not flashy enough."

"Easily solved," Sai said, unconcerned. "Come over to my dorm. I think I know what to do."

"Which one?" Hinata said, quickly flipping to a blank page in her sketchbook. Sasuke was off at rehearsals again. She had approximately two hours to work something out--or get Sai to do that for her.

"Fourth floor of Aka. Call me when you get there-- I'll open the door for you."

Relieved, she hung up without even saying good-bye and began a mad rush to Aka Residential College.

*

The Aka dorm was suitably named. The walls were bright red brick, contrasting sharply with the modern glass and stucco of the other buildings. It was the oldest dorm, and also the most prolific. Home of frat houses, and also the elite Root, an exclusive club (or cult, as Kiba had enviously called it) of the school's most talented artists. Sai climbed down only seconds after she had called him. She wondered whether he had super-human speed or had simply been waiting for her.

Silently, he gestured for her to walk in front of him. She sent him a questioning look, and he mouthed, "Ladies first" and skirted out of her way before she could hit him.

"I'd rather you didn't do that," he said teasingly, "I've seen the damage you've already wrought on Deidara-senpai's face."

Hinata twiddled her thumbs. "It was an accident...!" she whined, but he clucked his tongue and pushed gently past her, opening a sturdy wooden door to his dorm.

It was huge, for a dorm, and he seemed to occupy it alone. Normally, she'd spend her time seething over the obvious perks of Aka-- a small, personal kitchen in the corner, the clean bathroom shared with the occupant of the room across, the slightly-bigger-than-necessary queen mattress.

Instead, her eyes fell on the life-size paintings that adorned every inch of the walls.

Each wall seemed to be color-coded, probably according to the phases he'd been going through, monochromatic blues and red and greens on three sides, colorful oils on the fourth.

They were mostly animals, she noted, tigers and pelicans and phoenixes, a chimera with a goat's, lion's and basilisk head sprouting from a thick neck, a gorilla with teeth bared in a yawn. On the fourth wall, there were more people, men and women and children, all with deep, Renaissance era gazes.

They were so real, so life-like, mythological or not. She'd never seen anything like it. Dreams of drawing just like Hyung-Tae-Kim went spiraling down the drain. She'd found a new idol.

Sai tossed her an amused look, waving his hand in front of her bewildered eyes. "Hinata-chan?" he said teasingly. "Wake up, please."

Her mouth clamped shut, and she dropped down to her knees in front of him, her forehead pressed against the carpet.

"Senpai!" she said, "Please teach me! I promise to be a dutiful, reliable student!"

He chuckled. "My talents die with me, Hinata-chan." So much for modesty. There he went, grinning stupidly again. She looked up, tears in the corners of her eyes.

"F-fine! Teach me anyway!" her voice was beginning to crack with emotion. "I'll do anything!"

He gave her a serious look. "Undo your bindings."

Without a second's hesitation, she discarded her jacket and was working on her shirt when he lifted a hand to stop her.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Maybe sometime. Stop crying. You have a dilemma, remember?"

She nodded slowly and sniffled, buttoning up her shirt quickly. When she turned back to the paintings and made a movemt to dive back to her knees again, he grabbed her by the arm and turned her toward the door.

"You're a god," Hinata said, seeing stars and clouds and naked Cupid babies.

"Yes, I know. And you're a girl."

"Yes, I am, aren't I?"

A few minutes too late, Sai suddenly remembered why he didn't usually invite Freshmen to his room.

"You have an hour to get ready, Hinata."

That seemed to wake her up. With a yelp, she grabbed his sleeve. "O-Oh no! What do we--!"

Sai lifted a finger to stop her. Then, swiveling on one foot, he disappeared into his closet. After a minute of rustling, he emerged, wrapped set of clothes dangling from a hanger in one hand.

His smile had returned tenfold.

"A long, long time ago," he said, "A young me ventured into Anko's cafe, quiet, innocent, and unassuming. Naturally, this was the unfortunate result."

He unzipped the bag slowly, for dramatic effect.

Hinata flushed. Definitely Anko's creation.

The 'masterpiece' was a jacket, shirt, and jeans combo, and would've been fairly normal were it not for certain...significant details.

For example, the shirt was black and fairly low for a male's, dipping a few inches past the clavicle. High enough to be safe, she supposed, but she'd have to tie her bindings lower. Perhaps even more alarming, however, were the deliberate holes around the collar and the three belts that strapped diagonally across the front.

She picked it up gingerly. "This is heavy," she observed.

The pants were next. Really, these were the simplest-- grey-black skinny jeans with minimal adornments. Just about her size too, which was strange, considering Sai was at least six inches taller than her.

"I've grown," he said dispassionately when she looked from him to the jeans with a confused expression.

The jacket was last. Red leather, it stopped at her waist, and had been packed with some sort of padding in the shoulders, which, for once, were actually quite welcome.

She excused herself to the bathroom to change, and then reemerged a few minutes later with a bright blush on her face.

"I should just be a boy all the time," she whispered. True, the jeans hugged her hips, but the shirt was long and straight enough to hide most of it. And, If the mirror hadn't been lying to her, she made a very, very good bishonen.

Sai had looked at her for a second, then excused himself to the kitchen for a paper towel, leaving telltale drops of red behind him as he went.

A minute later, he was before her again, both nostrils plugged.

"We need to change your hair," he said, strangely monotone despite the bloody napkins sticking like horns from his nose. "And get some manly makeup on you."

Hinata looked up at him shyly. "Will you do it?"

"No," he said flatly. "We have to go to Anko's. Do you have your stuff?"

She nodded.

"Good. Because you only have half an hour till opening."

*

The Serpent, naturally, was empty by the time she and Sai arrived-- not a soul stirred in the strangely clear room. Hinata wondered why Anko even bothered to keep the door unlocked-- without her two employees, her evening cafe was as good as nonfunctional.

Anko grinned widely upon seeing Hinata, looking like a proud, happy cat.

"I see you kept it, Sai," she said, giving Hinata an appreciative once- over. "Sorry, but I think Hana here works it better." A pause. "So, why this today?"

Twiddling her thumbs, Hinata explained quickly. Had she been more observant, she would have seen a steadily growing glint in Anko's eyes-- a manic look that Hinata could only reflect if she walked in on a mostly nude Sasuke covered in oils (Not completely naked though-- then, she'd be more likely then to faint than stare).

"So..." her boss drawled, sounding slightly more sinister than usual, "Basically, your roommate, who happens to be the delectable Sasuke Uchiha, wants to make sure you aren't kissing girls by coming to check up on you at work?" She grinned even more widely. "Isn't he the aggressive little seme?"

Sai nodded vigorously. "Just what I was thinking."

Hinata looked at her feet. "He's been acting a little weird lately. He's always gone for rehearsal, but if I'm not home by the time he is, he gets all upset."

Anko clucked her tongue. "Poor you."

Sai nodded in agreement. "Ever thought about a surge, Hinata?"

Before Hinata could ask timidly for clarification, Anko rolled her eyes and began dragging her to the office.

The hair was first. Anko took a look at her bangs, cut in a strict, straight-across-the-forehead style, and shook her head, muttering something about layers.

And then proceeded to cut. And cut. Tufts of blue-black hair gathered in halo around her feet. Hinata wondered whether the lady was trying to shave her.

Without missing a beat, Anko traded her scissors for hair wax, working at break-neck speed as she lightly spiked her work, running her fingers gently against her scalp. She stepped back, looking satisfied, and handed Hinata a mirror.

She looked... Good. Like a boy-band member or something. Her hair was still long enough to hang over her eyes, but it now had a certain flow to it, and the wax gave it a gentle spiky look.

Anko always delivered.

"Five minutes!" Sai called from the cafe.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO  
**  
Hinata stepped out of Anko's office, stretching her arms out. Anko had tossed her a pair of combat boots that gave her a few inches more of height and various accesories-- a choker necklace, a pair of dangling cross earrings, an assortment of gaudy rings. The result was better than she could have hoped for. She'd half-known that she looked better as a boy, but this was ridiculous.

"Carry yourself, Hinata," Anko said, looking slightly punch-drunk, "Shoulders back."

She took a deep breath. "I-I'll try--,"

Sai put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and grinned widely. "If you can do this without a cinch, I'll teach you."

It took exactly 2.5 seconds for Hinata Hyuuga to transform into a bishonen dreamboat.

"Thanks, Sai," she said, her voice suddenly low and eyes narrowed and smoldering. Tapping his arm good-naturedly, she cruised over to the door, one hand in her back pocket.

Behind her, Anko was clutching onto Sai to keep from fainting and grasping her heart as though it were about to jump from her chest.

"What the hell?" she said breathlessly, watching Hinata leave and thinking (to her own eternal chagrin) that her little girl-boy had a very cute butt.

*

Hinata moved in a daze, inviting customers in, taking orders, and wondering why the women kept touching her--everywhere. Only twenty minutes into opening, and her back pocket was already stuffed to the bursting with phone numbers and love notes written on napkins. She'd never been a girl-person, but she'd had no idea that they were _this_ scary. That explained why Sasuke was always in a foul mood.

After a doe-eyed Frenchwoman had peppered her face with kisses (narrowly missing her lips each time) she wheeled around to the door and locked eyes with Sasuke. He looked at her in shock, holding her gaze. When she just stared back steadily, he sneered and seated himself.

"Teme! Room for us, too--" Naruto froze, and then looked at Hinata. "Wow, Hinata! Some uniform, huh?" He gestured behind him. "Hey guys! Come check Hinata out!"

Come they did. Sasuke hadn't been kidding when he'd threatened to bring the entire group over.

Shino and Shikamaru both gave her cursory glances, shrugged, and sat down with Sasuke, looking rather unsurprised. Kiba jostled by, shook his head, and said something about it always being the quiet ones.

It was the girls who really reacted.

Sakura launched herself forward, pulling her into a tight hug. Her red cashmere sweater pressed and rubbed against Hinata's collar.

"H-Hinata!" she said as she pulled back, her face an odd shade of pink. "It's so good to see you again! Really, really, really good!"

She was promptly pushed aside by Tenten, who had let her hair down and dressed herself up, presumably because Sasuke was there. (Not because she liked him much, but only because Sasuke seemed to arouse a certain physical inferiority in every poor soul he met, and she was trying to make up for their last gathering's sweatpants-pigtails combo). She fluttered her eyes and placed a light kiss on Hinata's cheek.

"Payback for last time," she said sultrily.

Hinata's throat went dry. Looking at Temari for help, she was met with a very Anko-ish smirk.

"You look nice, Hinata."

A sane response, at least. Hinata smiled. "Please let me or Sai know when you'd like to make your orders." she looked over the group, suddenly realizing that someone was missing. "Where's Rock Lee?"

Sasuke shrugged, speaking for the first time that evening. "He has a moral code against going out on Mondays."

"And Ino-chan has to stay after to finish her designs," Tenten piped in.

Hinata nodded, and then jolted when someone sidling past poked her in the side.

"This be the motley crew?" Sai said, looking down at the table with his signature smile. When Hinata nodded, he let out a loud "Ah" of understanding and walked off, clucking his tongue.

"Why that--!" Kiba snarled, beginning to rise from his seat. Shino grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him back down.

"Show some respect for your elders," Shino said. "That is Root chair. He just goes by Sai."

Kiba loomed, unconvinced. "That guy's in Root? He's in our Drama class...!"

Shino lifted a brow. "He's probably put off his credit. He paints-- he probably thinks it's a waste of time."

"Off course it is, our teacher doesn't give squat about us, and Deidara's too busy lusting after Hinata to get anything done..!"

Hinata flushed, turning toward the door, where a small group of customers were entering. "Guys, I have to--"

Suddenly, Sakura stood up, pointing accusingly at Hinata. "Wait. Deidara? The Deidara?"

Hinata shrugged. "I guess?"

At this, Sakura pretended to swoon, much to the displeasure of the nearby and jilted Naruto.

"Master sculptor. He creates the most gorgeous pieces, and then--"

"He blows them up," Temari finished, looking disgruntled. "A waste, if you ask me."

Sakura tossed her a crude glare. "It's art," she asserted. "Even the flying fragments are beautiful." She turned her gaze to Hinats, looking devious. "So, in that relationship, who's seme?"

After an hour or two of being a perfect gentleman, Hinata's facade broke.

Blushing, she turned away from Sakura's peering gaze, only to meet Sasuke's, who suddenly seemed a little too interested in her answer.

Luckily, Anko chose that moment to bark at Hinata.

"I'm not paying you to chit-chat!"

Bowing repeatedly, Hinata excused herself and shuffled back toward the other tables.

Once she was out of sight, Sakura turned to Tenten, shaking herself off. "Was it just me or was Hinata just a little adorable today?"

*

A few hours later, Hinata staggered against the cafe counter, pressing her forehead against it. Most of the customers were gone now, the stage was empty, and Sai was moving languidly, wiping off tables. Her group had left over an hour ago, and she'd been sure to avoid them (and their theatrics). She was dead tired. When she'd emptied her pockets, she'd found over thirty numbers.

Sai walked back and whistled. "Nice stash," he said. "I only got ten today."

"Next to the manly tsundere," Hinata murmured, "Women really like bishonen."

"Manly tsundere?" a voice said from behind her. Hinata jolted, and then whipped around.

"Sasuke!" she said, "You're still here!"

Sasuke scowled. "What did you expect me to do? It's too quiet in the dorm."

Sai grunted disbelievingly, tossing a towel across his shoulder.

"Are you convinced?" Hinata said. "I mean, not as if I needed to show  
you anything."

Sasuke pushed his hair out of his eyes. In the dimly lit room, the his dark eyes seemed to cover his whites. "Not like I was expecting you to prove anything." he shrugged. "Just looking for some good coffee. I could care less what kind of...girly crap you're into."

She narrowed her eyes, and then turned to Sai. "See? Here's the classic tsundere." She whipped back toward Sasuke. "Haughty, proud, and won't let a guy work off his headache."

Sasuke scoffed, unwilling to admit defeat even though it was so absolute. Hinata tossed him an apologetic smile. Where was all this confidence coming from? Maybe it was the outfit.

"Anyway," Sasuke said, "When are you getting off?"

Hinata checked her watch. Her shift was over at eleven-- one hour left. She said so.

He nodded. "I'll wait for you, then."

She furrowed a brow. "You don't have to. I usually walk with Sai-kun."

Sasuke tensed. "I'll wait, I said. I'll find a way to stay busy--..."

"Ah, I know just how you can work off that hour," Anko interrupted, emerging from her office at a suspiciously appropriate time.

Sasuke gulped.

And was dragged backwards into a certain crazy boss' office, from whence he did not emerge for another fifty-five minutes.

*

It was Sasuke's turn to faceplant into his mattress.

"That...woman," he croaked, shuddering, "is the devil."

Hinata laughed. She'd changed in the backroom and given her outfit back to Sai, who had tucked it away for 'later use.'

"She's not so bad once you get used to her."

Sasuke shuddered visibly and rolled over to his side. "Get used to her? You're crazy." He shivered again, trying to shake off the feeling of so many feathers, the grainy feel of glitter still layered over his eyebrow. "I'm not stepping foot into that place again."

Hinata mentally cheered, trying to keep her face level as she said, "Sorry you didn't like it."

She nonchalantly emptied her pockets, organizing the messages stuffed surreptitiously into her pockets into piles. Numbers on the left, emails on the right, gushy, coffee-inspired love poems in the middle. Just in case she needed any options.

Sasuke sat up, looking at her, suspicious. "What are you doing?"

Hinata flashed him a daring grin. Apparently those clothes had a lingering effect.

"Figuring out what lucky girl I'll be snogging next week," she said innocently.

Sasuke's jaw dropped so quickly that she swore she heard it hit the ground.

*

This chapter was fun. I've drawn little sketches of Hinata's outfits-- maybe I'll post them on dA or something.

Remember, R&R! That includes you, silent readers! :D


	8. Chapter 8

..3

**A/N: **What?! An update? After only two days? EGADS!

I couldn't help it. I got 14 reviews! :P This makes me happy. It makes me also want more, because I'm a greedy little review monster. Plus, this chapter was just sitting there. And it's so _short. _I mean, I tried to append it to the next chapter, but as this one has a rather serious tone and that one...uhhhh...doesn't, it wasn't exactly a good fit.

Enjoy!

****

**Chapter Eight**

Integrals made no sense. Math as a whole made no sense. Why oh why, at an art school, did she still have to take Calculus? So what if some of the theorems were 'applicable in all aspects of life?' So what if Da Vinci was a total master-of-everything-under-the-sun? She wasn't. Not like she was going to need to know whether a series was diverging or not while she was drawing her masterpieces.

She'd been hoping to skip these after high school. That had been one of the things she looked forward to in college--never having to take a math class again. Yet here she was, half-banging her head on the desk as she tried to decipher her scrawled notes. They were messy, a direct contradiction to her clean, smooth sketch lines. All over the place. Even the examples her professor had explained step by step didn't make sense.

After three hours of hopelessly dredging through homework, she stood up, stretched, and made herself a steamy, hot cup of Chai. She'd taken to tea only a few weeks after working at The Serpent. Anko's drinks were delicious...in small doses. After two days of sipping free mochas, with something like three shots of expresso in them to keep her awake, she'd vowed never to touch coffee again. Tea was her new fix, gentle and soothing, producing a strange calm alongside the energy boost.

She took a slow sip.

The days had been dragging by uneventfully. Sasuke was spending every waking moment with his troupe, Naruto seemed to be drifting at all times to the girl's school to visit his darling Sakura, Kiba tried to avoid Deidara and consequentially was always avoiding her, and all in all, she felt quite alone. It made no sense, really.

"I should be enjoying this tranquility," she said aloud. "It means everything's going as it should."

There was a knock.

Hinata placed her cup down with a delicate clink and glided to the door, standing on her tiptoes to see through the peephole.

_Crap._

It was Deidara.

_Crap crap crap._

"Hinata-kun!" his knocks turned to bangs. "I know you're in there. Haku said you were studying for calc."

Darn Haku and his weakness for pretty boys.

She'd skipped the last few days of meetings, mostly because work and studying had lately taken up every drop of her free time, and kind of because Deidara was very-slightly-kind of-sort of-maybe-just a bit psycho.

Thinking on it, maybe Kiba was not talking to her out of vengeance. She'd left the poor guy alone with him, for crying out loud. He'd probably been pulling all of his hair out for the past few days.

After an especially loud bang, Hinata finally yanked open the door. Deidara fell on her like a ton of bricks, crushing her to the door. She yelped at the proximity-- he was too close, too close, and his chest was pressing so tightly to hers, squeezing every last ounce of breath out of her lungs and...

His eyes widened and he pulled back, looking down at her in shock. Promptly, he closed the door and locked it behind him.

Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, trying to choke back her sobs.

Shit.

*

Puck. Of course he'd landed the lead. Sasuke Uchiha was a freshman force to be reckoned with.

He tossed indifferent eyes to the casting sheet, feeling quite accomplished. Naturally, his upperclassman competition had complained, but he'd put them in their place. After all, all they could claim was seniority. He, on the other hand, had talent. Raw, pure, untainted talent that radiated from him like light from the star he was.

Still, one position was still open. This performance featured an all- male cast, and while the tall, regal female characters had already been found in the host of pretty boys who made up his troupe, short, sweet Hermia was yet to be placed.

Her lines were simple enough. They didn't require the same level of expertise required of Puck's loftiness.

So without thinking, he'd offered to ask his roommate, assuring Kakashi-sensei that the little guy'd say yes.

Better hurry home, though. Just in case Hinata chose to defy him again, which he'd been doing a lot of lately.

*

Deidara rested his back against the closed door, eyes shut, only listening as Hinata let out another shuddering breath and pulled her knees to her chest.

The bindings could hide her appearance, but so close-- of course he'd feel something. Of course. She was-- as Sai had put it-- fairly well- endowed. Of course he'd feel it.

Why hadn't she opened the stupid door earlier? A lone tear traced down her cheek. Maybe this was for the best. Better sooner than later, right? Maybe they'd have mercy on her and send her away with a rap on  
the wrist. Except she was here on a scholarship-- which they would, undoubtedly, wrench from her clutching hands.

He finally spoke. She'd never heard him sound like this before, and his voice, usually light-hearted and a bit flamboyant, was suddenly a deep, masculine sound.

"Stop crying."

Hinata rubbed her tears away, but they only flowed faster, making unchartable tracks down her face.

"I...can't." How could she?

He opened his eyes again, but they were heated, smoldering, and she had to look away. For the first time since she'd come here, she felt self-conscious, unattractive. Doubtless he was judging her with every  
second that he looked at her with those terrifying, scrutinizing eyes.

He moved forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her forcibly to her feet. She stumbled forward, and he steadied her, grabbed her chin harshly, and--

--kissed her.

She became limp in his hold, hardly believing what was happening-- was that his tongue against her lip? She could barely register what was going on, and before she had the sense to pull away, he had, gently tugging her lower lip back with him.

Was the fact that she was finding it hard to breathe because she was scared, or because he was a shamefully good kisser?

His forehead rested on hers, the blonde bangs brushing against her cheek.

"This doesn't change anything, you know," he said slowly. "If anything, it makes it all much more interesting."

There was something sinister about his new voice. She didn't like it. Besides, somewhere in her hazed mind, she realized that her first kiss had just been stolen, and that Sasuke would be home any minute, and...

"You're crying again," Deidara observed.

"Please," Hinata found herself pleading, "Please don't tell anyone. Please."

He chuckled, stretching his arms over his head, his blue eyes laughing.

"Why throw away a perfectly good toy?"

Definitely sinister. Hinata clenched her fists.

"Although...I'd rather leave than..." she took a deep breath to organize her muddled thoughts. "...than do anything--dishonorable."

He laughed again. "Don't worry. I won't force you to do anything too dirty." He crossed his arms and turned to the door. "'Too' being the operative word."

He was joking around, but somehow the air still felt tense.

"T-that was my first kiss, you know."

He turned around to look at her. Those eyes--they were still laughing. _Ridiculing her_.

"That's why I took it."

The doorknob rattled-- Sasuke was home, and not a minute too late. Deidara was at the door, and the two men stared at each other, one agape, the other strangely smug.

"Hinata," Deidara called, still looking right into the Uchiha's confused, half-challenging eyes. "By the way, for every meeting you've missed, I'm docking you five points. You'd better show tomorrow."

With a casual salute, he slipped past Sasuke, who wedged himself into the room and bolted the door.

He looked harried. And concerned. His brows were furrowed, like he wanted to ask something but couldn't bring himself to step past his pride. Slowly, he stepped up to Hinata, dropping his bag and bundle of papers on his bed.

"You've been crying."

Hinata looked up. "No, I haven't."

He scoffed. "You're also a horrible liar. Your eyes are all red, and your face is wet."

Okay, so, in retrospect, maybe what he said was in no way a catalyst for more tears. Still, the treachorous things sprang into her eyes, running down her face without inhibition, warping her voice to a timid  
croak as she muttered, "I'm not crying. Men don't cry," over and over again, as if saying it so many times would make it true.

Sasuke stared at her, startled. In the couple months they'd been together, he'd said a whole host of horrible things to Hinata, and he'd always just laughed them off or looked at him teasingly, as if his comments barely bristled him. What could this--Deidara, was it?-- guy possibly say to make Hinata cry?

"What did that prick do to you?"

Hinata tried not to look up at him, but failed anyway. Her pale irises looked odd and alien against her red whites.

"N-n-noth--," she tried, but then hicupped halfway through her proclamation and promptly began to sob harder.

Sasuke looked at Hinata, severely conflicted. He wasn't much of a comforter-- his attempts at cheering people up usually gave them diagnosable depressions. But he couldn't very well leave him, right?

Right?

*

Hinata started when a strong hand pushed her head forward and into a strangely soft-hard surface. Sasuke pulled her a bit closer, loosely wrapping his arms around her waist.

It wasn't a bro-hug. There was no fierce back-patting, no masculine, rough exclamations. If anyone walked in at that moment, they'd likely think something less than innocent had occurred.

Sasuke didn't care. He was fine like this, holding the little twerp against him (heck, even crying, he was cute), thinking that, for a guy, Hinata was soft and slender and had almost girly curves, and that if he closed his eyes and held him closer, he could imagine they were something more than just roomies.

"Just so you know," he grumbled, managing to sound disparaging despite himself, "You owe me a huge favor after this."

*

A/N: Short chapter, but probably the most pivotal. Told you it was gonna get serious. Sorry if serious isn't your thing—no worries, next chapter is crack-tastic! Also, I know that, in terms of the original CQ, I'm relatively late with Sasuke finding out. I'm doing this for a reason. Please bear with me.

Deidara has to be at least a bit evil-- no matter how adorable he is. :P


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It appears that all of my favorite ships are having a horrible shortage on actually good fics. Seriously, some of the writers on this site are appalling!! Of course, you get your occasional Pulitzer-Prize deserving masters, but those are so few and far between, and they tend to update ssllllooooowwwwwlllly.**

I'm a snob, yes. And writing-wise (at least for fanfics), Probably average.

Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine, although he really wishes he was.  


**0oOoOoOoOoOoO0-  
**Chapter Nine

**0oOoOoOoOoOoO0-  
**

The next morning, she awoke to find herself sprawled out on the sofa, facing the TV, her head nestled against the chair arm. Her eyelids felt bruised and sore, and she could feel the dry salt burns on her face.

Last night seemed like a dream. Had so much really happened? Did Deidara really say--_and do_-- all those things, or had that part been a crazy, warped nightmare?

He'd kissed her, hadn't he? Deidara. He was so impossible to read. She couldn't tell whether he liked her or was toying with her, playing her like a harp. So what if he was pretty. And a renowned artist. And fun, when he wasn't being crazy.

Hinata had no idea how to feel about him, and all those hours of crying hadn't sorted anything out at all. It was safe to say she didn't love him-- the only guy she was ever completely at ease with was Sai.

_So, what was it?  
_  
And...Sasuke. Had that really happened too? He'd held her so gently, as though scared she'd break. Hadn't spoken, just tugged her to him until she'd let all her feelings out in long, drawn out sobs. He hadn't complained once, and let her watch her favorite sappy Korean drama (she'd broken her shojo habit, it was way too girly) on DVR without making a single snarky comment.

He'd been invaluable. And, in his own awkward way, really, really sweet.

Now that she'd gathered her wits again, she'd have to thank him.

It was early, barely seven. She tiptoed to the bathroom, resisting the urge to peek over at Sasuke's sleeping face. Washing out her face, she quickly got dressed, wrapping her bindings so tightly that she could  
barely breathe.

Then, she left the room.

Aoi dorm had a kitchen somewhere, she knew. She wasn't so sure of where it was, just that the Dean supposedly always kept it stocked.

Hinata wasn't entirely sure what Sasuke liked, just that he'd once mentioned that he hated sweets, and on a few rare occasions, seen him bite right into raw, whole tomatoes. It shouldn't be so hard to make an omelet, then, right?

After a few odd turns, she finally found the kitchen, hidden by a quaint metal door on the bottom floor.

It was empty, huge, and impeccably clean. Everything-- the sinks, counter tops, pans and pots hanging overhead--was made of gleaming stainless steel. She tiptoed to the fridge, and opened it surreptitiously-- even though it was open to all students, Hinata felt like she was trespassing.

It was full, completely stocked. The Dean hadn't been kidding when he'd said he liked to cook-- she spotted a tray of intricate desserts hardening on a shelf, and a delicious-looking casserole (labeled with a stern photo of the Dean and a notice that said, "Don't touch" to keep the hungry college boys out).

She gathered her ingredients, fishing around for spatulas, bowls, oil, cookie sheets. Winding a black and red "Kiss the cook" apron around her waist, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

It was quiet and a little lonely, but fun. She'd forgotten how much she actually enjoyed cooking. It'd been months since she'd done it last, probably right around her high school graduation, in a kitchen a little bigger than this one, with Matron, making breakfasts large enough for the thirty-some kids there. Konohomaru, she remembered, had really liked their biscuits.

She sighed aloud. She missed the little guy. He'd always been such a reliable little buddy, someone there for her when she had no one to turn to. The closest thing she had to family. She wondered how he was doing, but he didn't have an email address and she didn't have a phone, and she was terrified, oh so terrified, of getting caught.

She sighed, cracking yet another egg and dropping it into the bowl, and then reached instinctively into the carton to grab another-- but the carton was empty.

It had been full a second ago.

Hinata looked at the burgeoning bowl of raw egg, then turned to where she'd measured out flour and butter. She blanched.

Too much. It was all way, way too much.

Old habits die hard, and she'd only ever cooked for huge groups of growing kids. Her hands had moved on  
their own accord, making the same, memorized movements and effectively screwing her over.

The Dean would be furious.

Maybe she'd bring the leftovers to Drama? Or just cook everything and leave it-- doubtless, someone would find it and eat it. Still, it would be a bother to cook it all.

She tackled the biscuits first, preheating the oven and drawing out three extra sheets to bake them on. Once finished, she popped those in and began the arduous task of frying up some twenty omelets.

Half way through her ordeal, she heard footsteps, followed by a loud, familiar exclamation. A second later, Kiba burst into the room, sniffing excitedly and looking like he'd just hit the jackpot.

His eyes landed on her, and she waved shyly, wiping the length of her flour-coated arm on her apron. He was probably going to yell at her for missing meetings. Probably going to explode ALL over her. Possibly  
mess up her omelets.

Instead, his eyes widened to saucers and he walked over to the oven, breathing in the scent of baking biscuits.

"That smells delicious!" He turned swiftly to Hinata, his expression suddenly one of great adoration. "May I have one?"

She smiled. The way to a man's heart, she'd heard, was through his stomach.

"Of course you can."

He pulled up a stool and proceeded to watch the dark oven with a look of unrestrained awe.

By the time she'd finished six of the omelets, another soul, guided by his nose, wandered into the kitchen.

Haku, her extremely feminine, very, very pretty neighbor, strolled in. His hair was still up in last night's rollers, and one hung limply in front of his beautiful face. Haku was nadeshiko yamato at it's finest,  
except that he was a guy, which didn't seem to bother his huge, buff boyfriend and roommate at all.

"Hinata," he said in his soft, almost breathy voice, "Are you making breakfast?"

An obvious question required an obvious answer.

"Of course you can have some, Haku," Hinata said, peering enviously at Haku's long legs as he crossed them.

Before long, Zabuza had lumbered down the stairs and laughed maniacally when Hinata agreed to give him some, followed shortly by an excessively sunshine-y Naruto, a guy from Sasuke's troupe with pointed  
teeth, and a handful of guys whose faces she didn't recognize.

It was annoying at first, but she eventually realized that she could coerce them into doing chores while they waited. Within two minutes, with the help of fifteen very hungry, desperate boys, all the bowls  
were washed, surfaces wiped, tile waxed, and kitchen island laid in a proper manner, with each place adorned with small roses and ten separate sets of forks.

The moment she pulled the first batch from the oven, they attacked.

It was scary. Hinata had no idea that guys could be so violent. It was going to take forever to scrub the bloodstains off the floor.

The biscuits were down their gullets in record time, and suddenly looks of absolute adulation sprang into all of their eyes.

Hinata eeped and reminded them of the two remaining batches, at which point they simultaneously noticed the omelets she'd tried in vain to hide behind her.

She managed to save one, meant for Sasuke, before they devoured those, too. So much for a set table. They ate everything with their hands, wiping their hands on their jeans and ignoring napkins. Only Haku  
looked civil, sitting at his place with his back straight and his napkin folded immaculately on his lap.

When the oven went off, indicated that the second batch was done, Hinata had to high-jump kick a nearby sophomore to keep him from reaching into it without mitts.

"Okay!!" she yelled, losing patience. "Look here. Form a single-file line. No kicking, no puching, slapping, biting, touching. If I see you cut, I won't give you any."

Whether it was the threat to deprive them of biscuits or the fact that she, Hyuuga Hinata, had actually _yelled_ that whipped them into shape, she didn't know for sure. Whatever. All that mattered was that her gang of lunatics had organized themselves into an unmoving, well- behaved group of gentlemen.

It took the better part of the next hour to run away from them after their meal, when all fifteen, at once, decided to show just how grateful they were with a group hug-turned-football pileup.

_This is going to hurt in the morning._

**0oOo0oOoo0o**

Her arms positively wobbled as she hobbled up the stairs, concentrating on not dropping the tray of salvaged omelet, biscuit, and tea all over herself. Her stomach growled, and she grimaced at the irony. She'd made so much food and hadn't even been able to sneak in a bite for herself. Stupid, hungry, persuasive boys.

When she got to her room, Sasuke was already out of bed and dressed. He looked quizzically from her face to the food, then back again.

She closed the door with her foot and shuffled forward, placing the tray down by his feet. Bowing in front of it, she touched her forehead to the ground.

"Thank you for yesterday!" she managed, her voice muffled. "P-please don't think much of it. I'm not usually that--!"

He cut her off, gesturing down to his food.

"How am I supposed to reach it if it's all the way down there?"

Hinata looked up, cheeks reddening with shame. "S-sorry!" She hoisted it onto his nightstand, effectively spilling some of his tea. "Ah! Sorry!"

"Klutz." He took a hearty bite out of his biscuit and tried to keep from groaning aloud in appreciation.

Hinata noticed, though, and her eyes lit up in spite of herself. "Is it good?"

_It's the best thing I've ever freaking tasted!_

"It's edible." he swallowed pronouncedly, making sure to make it look difficult. Being a good actor paid off every now and then.

She looked crestfallen. _Yes.  
_  
Leaning down to her eye level, he narrowed his eyes. "As punishment for messing up my favorite shirt, and forcing me to eat that chalk," he said slowly, reveling in her wince, "You have to do something for me."

"What is it?" she asked, averting her eyes nervously.

He grinned. "You're going to act." When her eyes widened considerably, he added, "You're pretty conversant with Shakespeare, right?"

She nodded mutely, already feeling the trepidation creep up her throat, like bile.

"Midsummer Night's Dream. Hermia. You're skipping your first class to come see Kakashi-- I don't care what it is."

She pursed her lips together. Hermia was definitely a feminine character. Why was everyone under the sun these days trying to stuff her into a dress?

"Fine," she finally said, knowing full well that he could care less whether or not she agreed.

"Good," he said smugly. "Now come with me."

**00o0o0o0O0o0o**

Hinata stepped into the Drama room, ten minutes early to their meeting. Deidara would be there, alone. She would talk to him about yesterday, half to ascertain that what had happened had, in fact, not been a dream, and also to reinforce that she would not stoop so low as to become his little servant.

All of her tirades sounded excellent in her head. Half of her was sure she'd choke on them once she saw him.

Taking a deep breath, Hinata dragged the unfinished canvas out, silently placing the necessary paints out by the side. Kiba had made amazing progress--the winding, gnarled trees, wound in white faerie silks, were almost finished. It was beautiful, she supposed, but after seeing Sai's work, very little impressed her anymore.

"Ah, Hinata-chan."

She swung around, watching Deidara warily as he stalked out of the adjoined staff office. Irrationally, she felt her heart pound in her chest, her eyes instinctively jumping to his lips. She blushed and turned away.

She was there to tell him off, right? Not to be entranced.

"A-ano," she whispered, "H-hello, Deidara-san."

His eyes gleamed deviously. "Aaw. How cold. San? I thought we were closer than that."

His arms wound slowly around her waist, loosely enough to not be too inappropriate, but close enough to make her fidget.

"You know," he crooned into her ear, relishing in her shudder, "It's a wonder I didn't notice before. Under all this crap, you've got a pretty killer bod."

His hands fanned out around her hips, barely brushing. She whipped around and yanked them off, holding tightly to his wrists.

"Stop," she said. "No matter what you...saw...felt, while I'm here, I'm a guy. And I'd like to be treated as such." She sucked in a breath, concentrating on looking past his blue eyes, not in them.

"It makes no difference to me whether you're a girl, a guy, or somewhere in between," he said casually. "As long as I'm on top." He shrugged, pulling his arms away. "Besides, I know girls. You probably  
love that I'm teasing you right now."

"D-don't say such lewd things!" Hinata cried, suddenly feeling dirty. "I _don't._ At all."

He shrugged, abruptly changing the subject. "Heard you've been cast in AMND. Hermia, was it?"

Hinata turned around, back to the canvas. Gawd. Where was Kiba?

"He won't be coming," Deidara said airily, seeming to read her mind. "You're doing make-up sessions."

Hinata crossed her brow. "Then let me work."

Deidara clucked his tongue.

"You're so hostile. I was just asking a question."

Hinata sighed. "I'm doing it, yes," she said curtly. "As a favor to Sasuke."

She said it like a challenge, stressing Sasuke's name. She didn't know much about her roommate, but she did know that he was a fresh talent and oddly influential in the Theatre department.

Deidara raised a brow. "Really?"

She nodded, pulling out a brush to outline a weak spot in the painting.

"Yes. Also, Kakashi-sensei says that you aren't allowed to dock me points for missing sessions, since I'll be rehearsing for a while." She paused, already feeling the triumph bubble up in her stomach. "I don't care whether you know. I'm going to keep doing what I want to, regardless."

Hinata looked up to gauge his reaction. His eyes had narrowed again, but he was still grinning.

"Ah," he observed, "The kitten has claws."

She smiled. It somehow sounded like a compliment, after all.

"What will you do, though, if, say..." he crossed his arms and leaned back into a nearby wall, "I decided to let your little secret out?"

Her heart fell. _He's bluffing_, she reminded herself. _He wouldn't do that._

"I'd leave," she said truthfully, shrugging. After all, what else could she do?

He frowned. "Oh. That's not fun at all."

He leaned down to her eye-level, licking his lips suggestively. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the image of him leaning in out of her traitorous little mind.

This guy was such a _tease_.

And then she felt his lips brush past her cheek, resting mischievously at the corner of her mouth, and for a second she froze, wondering whether he intended on picking up where he'd left off yesterday and whether, this time, she'd be able to shove him onto the floor when he tried.

"Don't worry. I won't tell a soul," he said against her. She clamped her mouth shut, afraid of where else that mouth would venture. "It's much more fun to watch you squirm."

When he released her, she stood, shell-shocked for a full minute, barely registering that his words had been almost identical to Sai's.

Were all artists this sadistic? If so, she might consider a different profession.

**o0OOOoooOoo**

When Hinata got to rehearsal, she found Kakashi-sensei and a handful of other actors there, but Sasuke was nowhere to be found. Without him, she felt slightly out of place. The men there were all graceful  
creatures, doe-eyed pretty boys who could capture the audience with, if not their talents, their hypnotically good looks. They held themselves in high regard, having studied all their lives to be where they were at that moment. They probably didn't appreciate a newbie like her who had just waltzed into their play because she somewhat resembled a character.

Kakashi-sensei hadn't seemed to mind, though. He beckoned her over, grinning widely behind his mask, and patted the arm of the stiff sofa beside him in invitation.

She bowed and sat.

"This is Hinata-kun," Kakashi said lazily. "He's new to this, and he's definitely cut us a break. You know, since none of you'll be Hermia."

His one visible eye leered tauntily at his protégées, who groaned as though tired of this tirade and leaned back against whatever stage prop was closest.

Hinata offered a shy smile.

"A-ano," she said, bowing again. "Thank you for letting me join you. Please take care of me."

These guys were actors, she reminded herself when the entire troupe lit up in smiles. _They look happy to see me, but they must really hate me.  
_  
The closest one-- she recognized him as Suigetsu from breakfast, spoke up first. His teeth looked razor-sharp. Happy as she was for Sasuke, she thought that visually, at least, this guy looked better suited the  
role of Puck.

"Oy, Hinata-chan," he said teasingly, "How tall are you?"

She blushed. "About one--"

A gruff, annoyed voice answered back-- Sasuke was here at last. "Tall enough to kick your ass. This one's a black belt."

The blush returned tenfold. She hadn't realized that legend of her fighting prowess had spread so quickly. Either Deidara had made sure to show off his battle scars, or Kurenai-sensei was having gossip  
sessions in the teacher's lounge.

"Oh?" the biggest guy said, rubbing his mop of orange hair, looking down at Hinata with renewed interest. "Me too. We should spar sometime."

Wide-eyed, Hinata surveyed the huge, hulking bulk that was this grinning thespian and imagined fighting him. All of the scenarios ended with her crushed under him.

"Don't be ridiculous," Suigetsu said, laughing. "This little shrimp...?"

Sasuke turned to her, looking completely serious despite the laughter behind him.

"Have you looked at your lines?"

Hinata twiddled her thumbs. "I-I-I already...I already know them."

For a moment, the entire room went silent. The big guy slowly released Suigetsu from a headlock, and Kakashi's eye was so wide she thought it could jump right out of it's socket. Sasuke looked slightly shocked  
for a moment, then disbelieving.

He said a line, randomly, from the script. Demetrius'.

Nervously, she recited Hermia's response.

Immediately, everyone relaxed. Kakashi scratched his head, shrugging, and Juugo let Suigetsu fall to the ground with a thump. Sasuke looked completely disgusted.

"Too good to be true," Hinata heard Kakashi say ruefully. She furrowed her brow, confused. The line was right, she was sure of it!

"What did I do wrong?" she asked earnestly.

Sasuke shot her a harsh glare, an I-can't-believe-I-got-myself-into- this-mess look that would've upset her had she not been so eager to please.

"You sound like a robot," he said, looking down at her like she was the scum of society--or something. "Can't you speak? Since when can you not pronounce 'primrose'?"

When she didn't answer, he snorted again, repulsed.

"We have so much work to do." Turning a quick glance her way, he cocked his head toward Suigetsu. "Oy."

The white-haired upperclassman glided over, his grin becoming more manic with every passing second. The pair exchanged a knowing glance. It terrified her.

"We're going to terrorize you," Suigetsu said bluntly, "Sure you're ready, Mr. Black-belt?"

******  
**  
A/N: What? That's it? For now, yes. This chapter is mostly to set the stage (tee hee. Get it? Set the stage? And they're doing a play...? Wait. What the hell do you mean that's not funny. You know what, screw you. My dog thinks I'm hilarious) for future parts.**

**Frankly, though, not my favorite chapter. Next one is much better, no worries. I assure you, it will not disappoint.**

**Especially if you're looking forward to some sandy red-head action. (ooh la la) :D**


	10. Chapter 10

:O

**A/N: Can't believe that I'm already on chapter 10! Bejeezus, I need to get a life.**

****

_**Chapter 10**_

It was a relatively quiet day at the cafe, at least, as quiet as any place could possibly get with Anko in the vicinity. Hinata pulled back the long sleeves of her modified kimono. It was her favorite outfit yet, made of an aquamarine and pink cotton-silk hybrid that was smooth against her skin. The obi was tied back in an ornate bow behind her, and the skirt stopped at mid-thigh. Anko had somehow managed to pull her short hair back, hiding the messy hair pins with sakura blossoms and a porcelain comb.

Sai had nothing snarky to say, which was always a good sign that he thought that Anko had gotten it right for once.

A man on stage recited epic poetry in German, and the ten or so customers drank their coffee and listened noncommitally, nodding their heads more to the rhythym than the words themselves (no one understood a thing he said, just that his tone varied between neutral, a little angry, and righteously furious.)

That, of course, was all before another German burst dramatically into the room, pointing a finger accusingly at the one on stage. The two immediately began to shout back at each other, the performer hopping off the stage to deliver a more personal attack to the other's Mutter.

The intruder punched the performer in the jaw. Doubling over, the injured one quickly rushed forward and delivered a rebuttal to his gut.

Hinata didn't stop to think-- if she had, she might've called out for Sai rather than take this matter entirely into her own hands. Dropping her tray onto the closest table, Hinata shoved herself between the tousling pair and delivered her signature palm-up uppercut to the closest one's jaw. He staggered backwards, missing the blind punch his adversary had aimed for his stomach.

Which was all fine and fortunate for him, but not so much for Hinata, who took the hit directly and flew backwards onto one of the tables.

Her head spun, and her chest hurt at the point of impact. Distantly, she could hear both customers yelling, "Bekummert! Bekummert! Bist du okay?" and feel something ice cold dribble onto her shoulder.

Groaning, she opened her eyes and met wide green ones.

"Ah!" she said, recovering instantly and leaping to her feet. The customer eyed her warily, and she blushed in spite of herself-- why were so many good-looking boys concentrated in this one, tiny area? He was wearing glasses with thick black rims, his hair was a mop of red, and he looked very, very disgruntled.

That was when Hinata noticed the sticky remains of an icy caramel frappacino dripping down his shirt.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, reaching into her skirt pocket and pulling out a wad of napkins. Without thinking, she began to mop him off.

The man's eyes became as large as saucers. His hands flashed up to stop hers, grabbing her wrists in a vice hold. Hinata let out a small yelp of surprise, and in the next second the man had gathered his laptop carrier and newspaper and fled the room, leaving small puddles of frothy, icy coffee as he went.

He'd been blushing. When she looked up, he'd turned as red as his hair.

Dimly, she could hear Anko reprimanding the two offenders in perfectly fluent German ("Bist du verruckt, Scheiber?!"), and felt the familiar, warm weight of Sai's hand on her shoulder.

"Well, that was weird. Are you okay?" Sai said, looking a bit perturbed for once. He looked down at her, concerned, and winced. "Oh. Anko's going to go drown a puppy when she sees that one."

Hinata's back was covered in sticky, super-sweet coffee. She winced, and then turned toward Anko, who was chastising the poor Germans so heartily that they had sat down and bowed their heads like little  
children.

"Probably." She looked down to the runaway's sticky footprints. "...Sai?"

"Hm?"

"Have you... Have you seen that guy before?"

She knew him well enough to guess that he'd probably laughed at her from across the room and definitely knew who she was talking about.

"The redhead?" Sai said slowly, rubbing his temples slowly. "Yes, actually, I have. Can't think of a name, though."

Hinata furrowed her brow. "Where does he go to school?"

Sai shrugged. "Dunno. Not ours, though." He turned a sideways glance her way. "Don't worry."

Hinata bit her lip, realizing that, for once, fear of blowing her cover hadn't been the motivation for asking. She blushed, remembering the shy shock that had crossed the guy's face and thinking of just how cute it was.

It was only later, when she lay in bed and still saw his flustered expression behind her eyelids, that she realized that she had developed her very first real crush.

Sai would be so proud.

**0o0o0oo0oo**

"...Tomorrow t-truly...I will meet with thee."

"Louder!"

"T-tomorrow truly I will-- meet with thee!"

Suigetsu combed through his hair in frustration, glaring venomously at the now shuddering Hinata.

"I don't think I can do this anymore!" he fumed, pulling his hair. "I didn't know it was possible for anyone to be as bad as you!"

Juugo, ever so kind, smiled sympathetically. "He's got the hard part done," he offered, tossing Hinata an encouraging thumbs-up. "He's new to this, Suigetsu."

Suigetsu bared his teeth. "Maybe we should have gone to the girls. We'd get a real actor, then. And a prettier one."

Hinata felt herself burn with shame and looked down at her feet. She hadn't signed up for this! She was giving up hours of time she could be (should be) giving to studying Calculus to be verbally abused by  
this very scary upperclassman.

And he was supposed to be her love interest. Her Lysander, the Romeo to her Juliet.

With fangs.

"You have to say it like you mean it," he was saying now, "Like, say it like you would to your girlfriend that you haven't gotten to see in months."

Kakashi chortled. "What makes you think our little Hinata-chan has a girlfriend?"

Sasuke, who had been sitting moodily next to his sensei, snorted. "He's got about thirty girlfriends," he said gruffly.

The other troupe members cast Sasuke a disbelieving expression, and then, when he gave no sign of being sarcastic, quickly rounded on Hinata. Shame-faced, she admitted that yes, she had called each and every girl who'd forcibly given her her number, and that, yes, she had talked to each for at least fifteen minutes, that she was almost certain that there were thirty women scattered throughout Tokyo who were now madly in love with her, and no she was not going to share their numbers, because they were all, in fact, rather nice ladies and, besides, it would just be wrong to hand them out without the girls' consent.

"Just imagine one of them," Juugo said with a shrug. "Or think of the person you like. It can't be very hard."

She nodded, and closed her eyes.

The boy from the cafe came to mind, his glasses askew and cerulean eyes gleaming against his pink skin.

She licked her lips.

"Tomorrow, truly, I will meet with thee!" she said, imagining that Suigetsu was the boy, reaching out and holding his arm as though afraid he'd flee. This time, her voice was breathy, assured, filled with much more than the uttered promise.

_I want to get to know you,_ her eyes seemed to say. _Please stay.  
_  
Suigetsu quickly slapped a hand over his nose. "T-t-that," he said, his voice muffled, "That was really good."

For the first time since practice had begun, Hinata smiled brightly. Too brightly. Even the stage lights withered in comparison.

"Damn," Sasuke whispered as his nosebleed gushed out from between his fingers. Next to him, Kakashi had shifted uncomfortably, trying to hold back his lest he be forced to remove his mask.

**0o0o0o0oo**

The next day, Hinata half-skipped to work, bounding ahead of Sai with an almost ridiculous spring in her step. She tossed a blinding smile at her coworker, who, now immune to her extreme moe charms, smirked back. When they walked in, she literally threw herself at Anko and begged to be dressed up-- "Whatever you want today!"-- and waltzed out of her office in a white, leather minidress and go-go boots, her makeup neutral but for the smoky grey around her eyes.

She skipped about, took orders, giggled too much, and generally acted like a darling little girl, which made customers happy and Anko's bank account happier but Sai a little worried.

It wasn't until a little after nine that the door opened and the boy with the red hair walked in.

Hinata, who had been talking to Sai about the going-ons at rehearsal, immediately froze mid-conversation and watched, eyes wide, as he seated himself at a slightly isolated table and unpacked his laptop.

Sai noticed. Of course he did. He'd have to be as dumb as a moose ( an apology to the intelligent moose of the world, the analogy simply seemed appropriate, and in no way does the author promote the stereotyping of moose as unintelligent or otherwise) to not see the way Hinata had suddenly started leaning forward...

"Hinata," he said, curious, "Is that the kind of guy you find attractive?"

Hinata looked absent-mindedly at the customer as he pressed his pen to the corner of his mouth. No glasses today.

"I find attractive people attractive," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yet you don't feel anything for, say, Uchiha-san?"

Hinata made a face, and instantly said, "Not at all."

A few miles away, Sasuke felt a sharp sting in his chest and wondered who in the world had dared to reject him.

Sai nodded, looking somewhat smug. "And not Deidara-san either."

Hinata stuck her tongue out-- she didn't need words to express her distaste there.

Sai sighed. Trust little Hinata-chan to go and fall gaga over a complete stranger and ignore the two biggest heartthrobs in their side of Tokyo.

"Why don't you take his order?" Sai drawled, tired of watching her gape at the boy like he was a hydra.

She started, turning a little pink. "I-I should, shouldn't I?" she stammered, pressing her fingers together. "I mean, that way I can apologize for yesterday too, right?" Straightening her back, she looked purposefully at his table and played with the zipper snuggled tightly against her throat. "It shouldn't be too hard, right?"

"Don't keep him waiting," was all Sai said in reply.

Tentatively, Hinata made her way to the boy's table, holding her hands behind her like a child. When she reached his table, he still hadn't looked up, so she awkwardly cleared her throat.

He glanced up.

Oh.

He was a bit scarier looking than she'd imagined. Without his blush, he was pale as death, with childish lips and harsh eyes. Still, she thought, he was striking, at least.

"E-excuse me, would you like anything to drink?"

His eyes widened as he recognized her--her frequent style changes always threw people off-- and he turned a little pink, slightly this time as opposed to the full-on blaze from the night before.

"Same thing as yesterday," he said softly, "You should know, right?"

He ended the last statement somewhat bitterly. Somehow, she'd expected him to be shy.

"The c-caramel iced frappacino?" she asked. He nodded once and turned back to his computer. Then, recalling yesterday's accident, she added, "Since yours... Was upset yesterday, I'll give you one on the house."

He nodded in acknowledgment, and turned back to his laptop dismissively. Hinata stalked back to the cafe feeling as if her mission had just failed miserably. She hadn't managed to elicit the response she'd wanted from the boy at all.

Maybe I'm not attractive? She thought as she added a generous dollop of whipped cream to his drink. Maybe he blushed because he was angry, and really he's nothing like me at all, and I've been so stupid  
thinking that maybe we have something in common.

By the time she'd finished his order, she'd lost any and all of the courage she had garnered before.

"You take it," she said to Sai, shoving the tray into his hands. Sai gave her a quizzical look but didn't ask questions.

A minute later, he was back, looking slightly conflicted and very confused.

"He asked for your name," Sai mumbled, brow furrowed.

Hinata started. "You're kidding."

He'd been so curt before. It made absolutely no sense for someone who had acted so disinterested to suddenly be so interested.

"No, I'm not," Sai said, tossing a look over at their customer, who'd once more concentrated all of his attention on his laptop screen. "I think he was a bit disappointed to see me."

Hinata bit her lip, reminding herself not to get her hopes up. "What did you say?"

Sai started. "Your name. That was it."

Hinata furrowed her brow. "I-I know," she said, frustrated. "Which one?"

Sai paused for a minute, shrugged, and said teasingly, "Don't remember, Ha-na-chaaan."

Hinata tossed him a foul look and stomped off to greet the next customer.

**0o0o0o0OO**

The boy came consistently for the next week. Every night, Hinata took his order, which he gave in as few words as possible (usually three), and then, when Sai brought him his drink, proceeded to barrage him  
with questions about her.

On the sixth day, Sai tottered toward the cafe, looking uncharacteristically dazed.

"I think... I think he just indirectly asked you out."

Hinata nearly dropped the tray she was holding. "What?"

He shrugged. "He just asked me whether you preferred French or Italian food."

"Italian," Hinata answered automatically, "Wait. What?"

Sai turned back, realizing that the object of their conversation was beckoning him over. Shrugging, Sai walked over, exchanged a few words, and then hobbled back looking more confused than before.

"He...wants to talk to you," he said slowly, "But, for some reason, he wants me to come too."

Hinata chuckled, trying to sound indifferent despite the churning in her gut. Okay, so, thanks to the memory of his flushed face, she'd gotten so much better with Hermia's lines, and her sketchpad was chock-full of sketches of him from different angles sipping his coffee or typing, but she'd gotten over this childish infatuation and she didn't really need any instigation for... Oh, to hell with it.

Eyes narrowed, chin up, she walked over to his corner, Sai trailing only a few feet behind.

"Did you need something?" She said in a manner that could only be described as coolly polite.

The boy looked at her briefly, his eyes averting back to his computer and then to Sai. It seemed as though he'd just called her over as a joke, because a minute more passed and he still hadn't said a word.

"Hyuuga-San?" he finally said tentatively, and Hinata nodded. "I was wondering-- I was thinking..."

Giving up completely, he pointed at Sai and gestured toward the open seat in front of him. Shrugging, Sai sat down, and without him standing reasssuringly by her side, Hinata felt a little bereft.

And then what he said next made her suddenly stand bone-straight.

"Please tell Hyuuga-san that I'm very sorry for my behavior." He said this easily, and to Sai, who shrugged and turned to Hinata as though he was actually planning on passing on the message.

"I can hear you just fine--" Sai cut her off, mouthing 'Just play along,' and repeating the boy's words.

Hinata turned to the strange boy, eyebrow raised. "You're...forgiven, I guess."

He stiffened, but otherwise didn't respond. Sai shrugged and transferred the message, after which he seemed to brighten considerably, and then introduced himself as Sabaku Gaara, second year political science major at Toudai, which perhaps explained his peculiarity-- genius children were always weird.

With a soft smile, he looked back to Sai and said, "Would you please ask Hyuuga-san if she could please accompany me to...to Michelangelo's on Saturday?"

Sai's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets, and Hinata would probably be laughing at him had she not been gaping stupidly as well.

Michelangelo's was the most expensive eatery in Tokyo, an exquisite five star restaurant complete with indoor lighted fountains and exotic plants as well as a whole host of foreign chefs who had long ago earned world-wide recognition for their recipes. It was where old, wealthy businessmen took their wives for anniversaries, where young, stone-faced politicians hosted parties for their ambassadors, a territory no poor college student had ever even dreamed of infiltrating.

"You said she liked Italian," the boy called Gaara said accusingly to Sai, who hadn't quite picked his jaw up off of the table.

"I do," Hinata said.

"She does," Sai said.

"Then why--?"

"A-ano, too expensive."

"She says 'too expensive', Sabaku-san."

"I'll be paying, obviously."

"Still." She paused. "Besides, if you won't ask me directly, I won't go."

Sai cleared his throat. "She said--"

"I heard."

There was a tensed silence in which Hinata folded her arms unmovingly, Sabaku-san glared at his computer, and Sai looked from party to party, looking extremely confused and a bit out of place.

Finally, Gaara stood up, crossing his arms. Standing, he was at least a head taller than her, slender and bookish except for his arms, which were strung with lean muscle. He looked her in the eye, and it took all of her courage to meet his gaze.

It was scary. Like her own, his eyes were pale, a sea-green tint that was somehow both empty and burgeoning.

"Hyuuga-san," he said, sounding calculating, like he was speaking to a classmate rather than a girl he had just attempted to ask out, "I will acknowledge several things before I ask this of you. Firstly, that excluding our first 'accident', I have not really spoken to you. Secondly, that all previous experience I have had with the opposite sex has been negative. Thirdly, that despite my never before having seen you," he drew in a breath, the first sign that his speech was actually taking any emotional effort, "I am very, very attracted. I  
find you as... Pure. And kind. And beautiful as well."

She blushed, a deep red that would match, if not surpass, his shade from before. Sai was blushing too, taking mental notes and wondering how someone so bumbling and inherently socially-inept could ever be so  
completely... Smooth. It wasn't the delivery-- that came in a tone too monotonous to be considering enticing. It was the look he'd given her while he said the last sentence, the mixture between carnal hunger and pure reverence.

"So," Gaara ended, looking away shyly. "Would you like to go out with me?"

Hinata swayed, dazed, forgetting the healthy buzzing of customers around them, the way Anko shuffled to and fro muttering something about the uselessness of lazy employees and docking pay.

Gaara must have taken her silence as rejection, as he turned away with a small smile (that his first smile should be a sardonic one!) and moved his hands into his pockets.

"Ah," he said, "I see. I supposed that I should have continued to let your coworker speak for me. It appears that whenever I do the talking, things don't go well. At least you haven't hit me, I suppose."

"It's nothing like that, Sabaku-san," she whispered, trying hard to keep alert. "You spoke beautifully."

_Nobody's ever, ever told me that before. Any of that.  
_  
"I-I accept," she said, "I gladly accept." She bowed at the waist, murmured a soft 'thank you', and promptly fainted into Sai's waiting arms.

When Gaara looked horrified, Sai smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, honorable customer," he said, "This one's an innocent little flower. When you use big words like those, the weight's too much on their pretty little heads and they fall over."

Gaara wrinkled his brow. "Did I say something wrong?"

Sai smiled even more widely and shrugged. "You can never tell with ladies," he said truthfully, and, leaving a confounded Gaara behind him, trudged into Anko's office with Hinata smiling and completely passed out snuggled to his chest.

**0Ooo0oo0**

After getting a grumbling Anko to transform the still-out Hinata back into a boy, Sai bid his boss adieu and trudged back to school, his coworker asleep on his back. With an extra hundred-twenty-something-or-another weight on his back, the journey was a bit more arduous, but his effort was repaid in full when he walked into the courtyard and met the shocked eyes of the famed Uchiha.

He'd heard of the talented Freshman, seen him on occasion, hadn't particularly given him that much notice when he visited the cafe. People always marveled at his appearance, but personally, Sai couldn't see what was so great about him. He had a model's build, true, and a very classic, almost perfect face, but Sai found beauty more in imperfections, and Sasuke's marble face was a bit repulsive to him.

And then he scowled, and Sai smiled. Much better.

"What happened to him?" Sasuke asked, pushing his shoulders back proprietarily.

Sai gave his signature trickster smile. "Oh, nothing really. You know that Hinata can't handle anything too emotionally...stressful."

Sasuke's expression turned sour.

"Again, what happened?"

Sai had read from his behavior the last time he'd visited how he felt about the little pixie on his back. Wouldn't hurt to tease him a bit more, huh?

"Hinata's unrequited love was suddenly returned today," he said gleefully. "He's got a date on Saturday."

Sasuke visibly deflated. "Oh. I see." He turned to walk away.

"Yeah," Sai added as the coup d'état, "The guy is pretty serious about him."

He saw Sasuke visibly freeze mid-step, twitch, and swing around again. His eyes were narrowed sharply, and Sai knew he'd hit the jackpot.

"Give him here," he barked, amending his order with a light blush and the unnecessary explanation, "I'm heading back to the dorm anyway."

Sai gently transferred Hinata over to the Uchiha's arms. She sighed, snuggled into the new chest, giggled lightly, and mewled, "Sabaku-san, don't...", at which Sasuke looked horrified and Sai smirked knowingly.

"Ah, young love," he said as he walked back to Aka, leaving a shell-shocked Uchiha behind him and a series of more interesting escapades before.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0ooo**

**A/N: Watching Clottey vs Paquiao right now. It's hard to determine who I want to really root for, since Clottey is from my homeland (Go Ghana! WOOT!) And Paquiao is just friggin' awesome. So.**

**This is a post-Science Fair long post. Hope you like, you silly Gaahina fans, you. Don't worry. Sasuke will be getting some love soon too. I just have to make him suffer first. :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Wowza! 29 reviews for the last chapter! Jeez, you guys really love Gaara! Thanks a million! Also, to clarify, Hinata and Gaara go to different schools. Toudai = Tokyo University = actually exists, and is like Harvard in Japan. Tokyo Academy = FAKE & GAY (RayWilliamJohnson ref, if any of you watch him on youtube). From now on, TAB = Tokyo Academy Boys & TAG = Tokyo Academy Girls. **

**Thanks!**

**Also, if a Tokyo Academy does exist (which it prolly does), I don't own it. ;D**

**Disclaimer: **(in thick Russian accent) In Soviet Russia, you do not own Naruto. Naruto owns you!

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Hinata rolled awake, feeling happier than she had in years, as though nothing, absolutely nothing, could go wrong in her life. Saturday was too far away, but too close as well. What was she going to wear? Hopefully Anko had some formal dresses, and maybe she could borrow the blue contacts again just in case she ran into someone she knew.

"I can't wait!" she squealed, kicking her legs up in her sheets like an excited girl.

Sasuke stepped out of their small kitchen area, looking disgruntled.

"Can't wait for what?" he asked, scowling.

Hinata eeped, and quickly pulled her blanket over her head. "N-nothing!"

"Baka," he muttered, "I already know what it is."

Hinata's eyes became as wide as saucers. "Y-you do?"

Sasuke stared at her for one long, hard, second, and then broke away with a twisted smile that made her stomach churn.

"Have fun on your date, you little fag," he said, so loudly that she thought he wanted to broadcast it, and then unceremoniously stomped out the door.

Hinata waited until she heard it slam before pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them tight. How did he know? She figured Sai had brought her back after she'd fainted-- had he said something? Or maybe  
she'd talked in her sleep?

Either way...

"Sasuke..." she murmured, stuffing her sheets half into her mouth, "thinks I'm gay!"

After thinking on it a minute, she decided that maybe this would be for the best. After all, she'd be lying if she said she didn't like boys, (though, technically, she wouldn't be if she said she wasn't gay) and if ever a sticky situation arose that accidentally put anyone he knew in she and Gaara's vicinity, there'd be that much less to  
explain. Of course, she'd be a girl while she was with him, so maybe no explanation was really needed...

Or, a nagging voice told her, she could just tell Sasuke the truth and let him help her.

She shook the thought out of her head. Help her? Sasuke hated girls. He'd kill her three times over, report her, and then petition to have her remains used for military testing before he'd even consider _helping_. No way.

Or she could do what she always did, and just sneak and lie.

She sighed.

This mess was getting messier by the minute.

**0o00oo0oo**

"Today," Kakashi said gleefully, "The lovely ladies from TA Girls are coming down to take our measurements for costumes." He looked pointedly at Sasuke, who looked like he was about to be sick. "Be on your best behavior, kiddies."

One of the troupe (Hinata couldn't remember his name to save her life) sniggered and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I think Sasu-kun is scared he'll be molested again, ne?"

"Don't call me that," Sasuke spat venomously. He was in a fouler mood than normal, which was really saying something.

"A-ano," Hinata said shyly, "How will they be fitting us?"

Suigetsu gave Hinata a cursory glance that said 'noob' all over. "It's simple. You let them measure you. Occasionally, you have to take your shirt off or something. And every now and then..." he licked his lips  
to make his point. Hinata cringed.

_If I say I have scars, will they still make me strip?_

"I don't think Hinata's into that," Sasuke said sourly. Hinata gulped, hoping that his commentary would stop there. Thankfully, it did.

Juugo smiled, looking optimistic as always. "I wonder what crazy theme they've come up with for us this year."

When Hinata made a confused face, he explained good-naturedly that, for several years, Kakashi and the design department head at TAGs, Asuma-sensei, had been doing a trade-off-- Asuma's students designed  
the costumes free of charge for Kakashi's incumbent plays in exchange or complete creative license and, consequentially, dealings from the agents and scouts who frequently came to showings.

Five minutes later, Kakashi unlocked the door to the black box and in flooded a small group of girls with matching, business-like expressions behind colorful bandanas fashioned like masks over their noses and mouths. Each held a metal, bejeweled box, full, doubtless, with tools. It took Hinata a minute to realize that there was a girl for every cast member.

"Welcome, welcome!" Kakashi was saying, ushering them toward him. "So, which one of you has the assignments? Ah, yes, thank you. Now let's see.." he surveyed the group, and then nodded. "Looks like  
Asuma sent me the vets, hunh?"

The girls nodded in unison. They'd all, save one or two newbies, done this before.

"Also," Kakashi added, gesturing toward their covered faces, "I'm loving the masks. Mysterious, you know? Kinda sexy, too."

Sasuke made a face. "Stop being revolting and give us our assignments."

Kakashi looked rather put out, but obeyed nevertheless.

"Kurozawa-- you have Juugo here."

A girl with a lime green mask and black-as-night hair bowed once and walked over to Juugo, who shrugged and allowed himself to be led into a changing room.

"Uki-chan, looks like you get our beloved Sasuke."

If Uki-chan was excited by this, she didn't show it. Rather, the pigtailed girl reached for Kakashi's roster, violently ripping it from his hands and going over the list. "I swear I had Mori-san," she said defiantly.

"Did you do Puck's design?" Kakashi asked sourly, snatching back his page.

"Yes, but--!"

"Then you have Uchiha-san," Kakashi declared. When Uki and Sasuke simultaneously winced, he quipped, "Don't worry. He doesn't bite."

"Usually," Suigetsu added. The other troupe members laughed raucously as Sasuke and Uki, standing about four feet apart, disappeared into the rooms as well.

"Oribe, Suigetsu."

Oribe cheered aloud and instantly launched herself into Suigetsu's arms. Dimly, Hinata heard him whisper that they should hurry with the fitting to get on to the 'fun stuff,' and made a mental note to check his room number so that she knew to steer clear of it.

"Hyuuga," Kakashi called, "You've got Yamanaka."

Hinata jolted, searching the crowd-- that name sounded so familiar-- before finding her designer, who'd already started pushing toward her, tools in tow.

"Ino-chan?" She said happily. The blonde winked and lowered her mask briefly to blow her a kiss.

"The one and only," Ino chuckled, "Sorry I couldn't come to help show Sasuke up with you." She tossed her hair coquettishly, and linked arms leisurely with Hinata. "C'mon, Hermia...we're number six."

Hinata let Ino lead her into the room, and, closing the door with a lethal click, forced Hinata onto the small platform in the corner.

"Your clothes are so baggy," she observed. "And you're so slender, too. Don't you think it's a bit unbecoming?" She tugged on the corner of her shirt. "I'll need you to remove this, please."

Hinata's face flushed in fear. "Erm, erm, I don't think I can--!"

Ino snorted, ripping her mask off completely. "C'mon, you silly child, I'm not going to eat you."

Hinata hugged herself tightly, as though the pressure would force the tell-tale breasts into her chest. "I-Ino-chan, I'd really prefer if you just took them from the outside... I-I have..."

"A scar? Come off it," Ino said, growing impatient. "I've seen bodies million times grosser than whatever you've got. Let me do my job."

When Hinata opened her mouth to protest again, Ino sighed in annoyance, reached out, and unceremoniously yanked Hinata's shirt up.

There was silence.

"...Well, this is quite unexpected," Ino finally said after what seemed like eons.

Hinata covered herself quickly, red as a beet.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, eyes downcast. She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for, but surely Ino was furious with her. After all, she'd effectively told the biggest lie possible to all of their friends. And was bunking with the unattainable, gorgeous Sasuke Uchiha, who, next to Shikamaru-kun, Hinata was sure Ino had a crush on.

And then Ino punched her.

Playfully, on the arm.

"Damn, Hinata," she said, laughing, "You've got some major balls."

Hinata's head snapped up as she struggled to comprehend the blonde's reaction. "...Ern?"

Ino's eyes were bright, but with curiosity instead of rage. She looked more like she thought Hinata's treachery was cool than deplorable.

"Let me guess why," Ino said, rambling on quietly, "The Uchiha?"

Hinata rolled her eyes. Why did people always make that assumption? No wonder he was full of himself. "No, of course not. I actually..." she breathed, wondering whether Ino was truly accepting or was just  
pulling her strings, "...wanted a single room. It would have made my life here... A lot easier."

Ino looked puzzled. "What's the point, then? If not for the boys, why bother?"

"TABs has..." Hinata whispered, "the best visual arts program in the country. I wanted the very best."

Ino gave a low whistle that could be easily interpreted as suggestive.

"How noble," she said, impressed. Giving Hinata a good once-over, she shook her head and laughed. "How could I not see it before? Your shape is all wrong for a boy." She looked down at her own chest, then  
lifted Hinata's shirt up to her clavicle. "Look at all of that poor, compressed cleavage. How do you breathe?"

"Very slowly," Hinata retorted.

"Well, this is awesome!" Ino said proudly. "Few designers have ever had to complete such an assignment. Make a woman look like a man pretending to be a woman."

She snapped open her toolbox, pulling out a tape measure decorated with multi-colored duct tape. "Stay still now. Looks like I'll have to add an inch or two at your waist. Oh my god, this is great!"

Hinata sighed, prodding her fingers together. "I-Ino-chan," she whimpered, watching as Ino measured her bust with only a little discomfort, "You won't... Tell anyone, right?"

Ino blew a raspberry. "You're kidding. Of course I won't. Do I look like Sasuke to you?" She took to her feet, dusted herself off, and gestured that she could put her clothes back on.

"Thank you," Hinata said. Ino pulled her mask back over her face, winking.

"No worries." she said, shaking out her hair. "I won't say a word until you do. Of course, when you do, I'll make sure I tell everyone who'll listen."

Which, in Ino's terms, was no exaggeration.

****

By seven on the dot, Hinata was dressed up in a short-short pink Roccoco dress, all flurries and bowties and corset, with a blonde, coiled wig and baby-blue contacts. The leather lace-up thigh-high boots hurt her feet, and the push-up Anko had stuffed her into were more compressing than her bindings. Today, she'd been dusted down with all manners of foundation, rouge, blush, mascara and gloss, and it almost felt like she had a second, very uncomfortable face.

Plus...

"You look like a rich foreign whore," Sai said dryly.

Anko frowned, surveying her creation proudly. "What are you talking about? This encompasses the entire Lolita culture. We have sweet in the color of the dress and the hair," her eyes sparked, "And sexy-dark  
in the boots, the eyes, and--"

"The slut cut?" Sai said disapprovingly, looking at the teasing tops of thigh visible between the boots and skirt. Hinata followed his gaze, blushed, and tugged down on her skirt.

"A-ano, Anko-san.." she whispered, the slightest sliver of complaint in her voice.

Anko sprang on her with all the violence of a viper. "You hush! I'm paying you to do this, and designing a dress for you last minute! You'll wear a shopping bag if I tell you to!"

Defeated, Hinata sighed and dragged herself to the front. "I'll go open up shop," she said, taking each step gingerly to avoid falling.

"Like hell you will," Anko said. She leered at Sai, who matched her glare indifferently. "You! I'm not paying you for your mouth!"

Sai winked suggestively. "What, is that part just an added employer benefit?"

At that, Anko blushed (something she didn't do often) and punched Sai in the gut (a rather frequent occurrence). Then, leaving her cheeky employee doubled over by the counter, she skipped gleefully back into her office and locked her door, where, above the heavy metal music, one could hear very suspicious whirring sounds and the occasional mad cackle.

Hinata bowed to the early customers, regulars who gave her wide smiles and commented on her clothes--"You make an adorable Lolita, Hana-chan"-- and took their regular seats. Gaara was nowhere to be seen--  
three hours passed and he still hadn't showed-- and Hinata wasn't sure to be relieved or disappointed. On one hand, she never ever wanted him to see her dressed so shamefully, on the other, she really really  
wanted to see him, to talk to him, before Saturday.

By midnight, the shop had all but cleared out. Dreadlock-girl was on the stage again, strumming lazily on an electric-blue ukelele and singing Sukiyaki in a soft, reedy voice. Sai was sprawled along the counter, battling sleep, and Anko had emerged from her hellhole and was checking the register, counting every bill meticulously.

The doorbell sounded, and the last customer stepped in, shrugged off her leather jacket, and tossed it onto a nearby table.

Temari. Hinata would have recognized her anywhere. The tall woman always had a striking presence, what with her signature four pigtails, full curves, and fishnet accents. Hinata smiled, ready to greet her in the customary manner, the 'welcome to the Serpent, would you like to see a menu?' line that she used a million times a night.

Before she could open her mouth, Temari had rounded up on her, eyes ablaze.

"I was right," she said, under her breath, looking disgusted as she surveyed Hinata from head to toe and apparently found her greatly lacking. "Look, Hinata," when Hinata opened her mouth to protest, she  
added, "Drop the act. I know you're a girl. Anyone with common sense and a pair of eyes can tell that. What I'm here to tell you is this.

"As of now, I rather like you. Actually, I think what you're doing is completely badass. But, you do one thing to hurt my brother, you make him so much as frown, and your little secret--" her brown eyes narrowed to slits, "Is out."

She withdrew, her eyes softening instantly. She looked over to Sai, who looked absolutely shell-shocked, smiled, and said as though it were perfectly normal to waltz into a store two minutes before closing and threaten its most adorable employee, "Can I have a white chocolate mocha?"

"Sure," Sai said, after clearing his throat, "Would you like whipped cream with that?"

**0o0o0oo0**

On Saturday morning, Hinata slipped out of the room silently, a satchel on her back. Sasuke watched him go through his lashes, pretending (badly) to be asleep.

So he'd long ago accepted that he felt something for his roommate, even if he wasn't entirely sure what that something was. All he knew was that he was sneaking out to go on a date-- with a guy from another school, no less-- and leaving him behind.

Not on his watch.

The moment the door clicked shut, Sasuke launched himself out of bed. Rummaging through his clothes, he found a nondescript hoodie and jeans, and then, after some more digging, a baseball cap and sunglasses.  
Donning them all in under 3.5 seconds, Sasuke took a swig of cold black coffee directly from the coffee maker, tied his laces, and was out the door like a bat out of hell.

Hinata was still in sight, shuffling guiltily through the courtyard. Wait, why was she stopping at Aka? He sat on a bench and waited, one leg shaking with jitters. When Hinata returned with that one smiling guy, his eyes narrowed. That guy spent entirely too much time with him-- that had to be fixed ASAP.

Now, they were walking out into the courtyard. The smiling guy ruffled Hinata's hair affectionately, and he giggled and pushed his hands away, saying something about 'not teasing' and 'being embarrassing.'  
Sasuke adjusted his cap to cover his face as they glided, unawares, past him.

Someone promptly yanked it up.

Sasuke glared menacingly into a grinning Deidara's eyes.

"Someone's spying," he said teasingly.

"Go away," Sasuke retorted, somehow managing to put some real weight behind the elementary school rebuke. Deidara put both hands up and feigned surrender, and then promptly let out a guffaw of laughter.  
Sasuke clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up!" he hissed. "Do you want them to hear us?"

Deidara chuckled, his voice muffled under Sasuke's palm. "And why exactly is this a bad thing?"

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, pondering on the good and bad of telling this guy everything. On one hand, he knew more about Hinata, seemed just as interested, and knew his way around their side of barely-in-  
Tokyo. On the other, Sasuke intrinsically hated him.

"Why are you so eager to follow our little Hina-chan?" he asked, smiling. A second later, his smile slid off his face and his voice dropped a couple octaves. "Tell me. Hurry. She's getting away."

Panicked, Sasuke watched as Hinata and her friend began to slip out of sight.

"Walk with me," he said abruptly, launching to his feet. "I'll explain."

**0o0oo0oo**

Anko was, surprisingly, true to her word. The shop was locked in front, but she'd left the back door open and accessible. When they slid inside, Anko was waiting for them, waggling a masterpiece wrapped in opaque plastic.

"Here," she said, looking and sounding haggard. Hinata unwrapped it greedily, throwing aside the wraps, and...

"Wow."

It was so unlike most of Anko's work. Had she not seen her working on it during office hours, Hinata might have suspected she'd cheated and bought it. The only wild-ish liberty she'd taken was in the color, which was a bright, eye-catching red. The neckline was simple, dipping enough to show just a shadow of cleavage, and the skirt was form fitting to the knees, where layered frills spiraled elegantly at  
a nice angle, making one side longer than the other.

It was perfect. Hinata said so, and then qualified the compliment by leaping joyfully on her boss and hugging her so tightly that Sai threatened to take pictures and post them online if she didn't let go. Gingerly, she released Anko, smiled brightly, and raced into the office to try it on.

"She does realize she has eight hours before he shows, right?"

Sai chuckled. "I highly doubt it.

Anko furrowed her brow. "First date."

"Yep. Our little Hana is growing up," Sai said, sneakily snaking his arm around Anko's waist. She looked down at his intrusive hand, then back up at him. His expression hadn't changed in the slightest even as  
he inched closer.

"How cute," he whispered, dropping his head slowly on Anko's breath tickled her neck.

She promptly pushed him away. "You're pushing it."

His hand moved up, fingers tangling in the wide holes of her fishnet undershirt. "Ah," he said, "Should I apologize?"

Anko groaned aloud-- the two years of behaving herself were beginning to take their toll-- and dragged his hands away. Her cheeks felt hot, like she'd spent too many hours in the sun or kicking ass.

This guy...

He grinned wickedly and surrendered, giving her a couple feet of breadth just in case she decided to hit him again.

At that moment, Hinata burst through the door, spinning in her new dress. She turned brightly to her benefactors, and then dropped her smile when she saw Anko's red face and Sai's slightly guilty one.

What could anyone possibly do to get Anko so embarrassed? She looked up at Sai with renewed reverence and thought that really, he must be a god.

"You look lovely, Hinata," Sai said cordially, completely unfazed. "Though you should probably take it off for now."

"Why?" Hinata asked, pouting. It'd been ages since she'd worn a simple, free-flowing dress, and the material was soft and comfortable.

"Because you might mess it up," Anko said, trying to hide the fact that she was still flushed with a vicious tone, "and I am sure as hell not gonna help you fix it last minute."

"Besides," Sai added, "We need to go buy you some shoes, and, if we run into anyone we know..."

Hinata's face fell in reluctant understanding; she pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"Okay," she said, so sadly that both Sai and Anko almost simultaneously gave in, "I'll go."

With a solemn click and a pout, she disappeared back into the office.

Sai turned menacingly to Anko, who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

"So," he said, his amusement palpable in his voice, "Where were we?"

***

"Sh-He's what?!"

Sasuke glared at the annoying blonde from above his glasses, wishing that he'd just left the guy behind. He was beyond irritating, and Sasuke was seriously contemplating strangling him.

"You heard me."

Deidara made a tortured sound, his eyes glistening with real tears. "B-but! My Hina-chan? With another guy?" Melodramatically, he lifted a fist toward the heavens, sniffled, and declared, "I will not allow it!" in a voice entirely too loud, considering they were trying to be inconspicuous.

"When are they going to come out of there?" Sasuke finally said after they'd circled the Serpent's block five times.

As though on cue, Hinata stepped out of the building-- his arm linked with Smiley's.

Deidara made a choking, gasping sound.

"With Sai?" he said, disbelieving. "No. No way. I won't allow it."

Sasuke shook his head. "I don't think so." And he didn't. Sai was always, constantly with Hinata, but, from what he could see, their relationship was an easy-going one. Hinata was laughing and goofing off, not blushing and stammering.

"I still don't like it," both he and Deidara muttered in unison. They turned to each other fiercely, sized each other up, and then determined that there was a far more formidable adversary out there and followed in relative silence.

Thank goodness we're half in the boonies, Sasuke thought to himself, with a crowd, this would be impossible.

And it would. Because, after only twenty minutes of active tracking, the duo discovered that either Hinata knew he was being followed, or he was just a ninja at heart. The moment he left a store, usually empty-handed, he would whip past a corner and blend in with the steadily increasing number of weekend shoppers. Following him was becoming tiring, and his baggy hoodie was now uncomfortably hot.

"The other day, Hina-chan hit me," Deidara was saying (and Sasuke was trying his hardest not to listen) "and I was sure it was the uppercut of love." He clasped his hands together in blissful reminiscense.

Sasuke shoved him. "You're being revolting."

Deidara pouted pronouncedly. "Of course you wouldn't understand. You wouldn't know true love if it bit off your junk."

"Precisely why I don't want it around."

Deidara shoved him playfully. "Aw, no wonder Hina-chan won't return your feelings. You're so co---!"

Quickly, Sasuke swung around and latched onto the shirt front of his taller adversary, yanking him down to eye-level. He leaned forward, teeth gritted. "I don't like him! I just want the guy to be safe-!"

Deidara seemed half impressed by the sudden physical onslaught, but not anywhere as impressed as the small, wonderstruck circle of girls who were now looking up at them like monkeys at a delectable banana  
split sundae.

"BL!" one shrieked suddenly. The others, empowered by this revelation, whipped out their cell phones and cameras in record time and surrounded the pair with squeals and flashes.

Sasuke pushed Deidara roughly away and spat.

"Aggressive seme!" all the girls squealed.

"Hey!" Deidara protested, unhappy by his default bottom designation.

"Go away," Sasuke tried, muscling through the circle, which was now several blushing girls thick. He spotted Hinata and Sai leaving a boutique, a bag slung over his shoulder...

"Dammit! Deidara! We're losing them!"

Deidara was currently chatting warmly with two of the girls, who looked up at him reverently and chattered back.

Sasuke pushed again. The girls giggled and squealed happily, but may as well have been made from steel.

"Stop it!"

Maybe he'd yelled too loud. Maybe he'd forgotten that, of all the guys at TABs, he had the most iconic voice.

Dangit. He'd seen him.

Hinata turned in his direction, smiled brightly, and waved. Sasuke, stuck in a compromising position with his glasses horribly askew, stared back dumbly. When the pair turned a corner, he slumped back, defeated.

"He saw me," he said emptily. "AND we lost them."

Deidara looked up, unaffected. "Oh?" He turned his most dazzling smile to the girls. One fainted. "Excuse me, dolls," he said, dropping his voice to hypnotic-rumble again, "It's been nice talking to you, but we  
really have to get going." He turned to Sasuke and winked. "C'mon, tiger."

The crowd parted like Moses' Red Sea, and, with a few 'thank you's and quick bows on Deidara's part, they were back onto the street.

Sasuke quickly rounded up on Deidara again. "Why didn't you do that from the start?"

Deidara clucked his tongue. "Careful, those girls might think you're trying to molest me again."

Sasuke scowled deeply and let out a 'che' in annoyance.

"So," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, "Now that we have no idea where they are, what do you propose we do?"

Deidara shrugged, then glanced back mischievously at the still motionless crowd.

"Provide fan service?" he suggested, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Sasuke punched him squarely in the gut and proceeded to walk off, leaving his partner in crime groaning on the floor. He'd never thought it possible, but this guy had officially surpassed Naruto as lead 'Dobe.'

Meanwhile, in a small store a few blocks away, Hinata put down a pair of silver heels and turned to Sai.

"Deidara-san and Sasuke-san are really popular, aren't they?"

Sai shook his head and chuckled. "Not quite as popular as you," he said, ruffling her hair when she puffed her cheeks out in complaint.

*****

**A/N: **End chapter. I hope you paid attention. No worries, Gaara-san will arrive again in the next chapter!!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I somehow seem to be drawn to the strangest pairings. As I see there are NO SaixAnko pairings on ff, I may take it upon myself to write a wacky oneshot spin-off to fill the void. No, I don't usually ship these guys. Actually, originally, Sai was going to crush on Hinata too, but I like the simple, innocent affection between them. The Anko thing just...happened. Sorry if you no likies. Either way, I'm not changing it. :D  
**  
**Disclaimer: **Own Naruto I do not.

****

**Chapter Twelve**

****

Hinata grinned widely in triumph, clutching her new shoes in her arms like a child with a bag of candy. Some nagging feeling reminded her that she'd just spent 5,000 yen worth of food on a pair of impractical heels, but she reasoned that she'd just make a few more unauthorized trips to the Dean's kitchen if she got too hungry. Besides, she'd earned every cent of it.

Sai had treated her to lunch at a noodle stand after she'd told him she'd never tried non-instant udon before, and then watched, amused, as she slurped down the bowl. They'd headed back to the Serpent with barely an hour to spare.

The moment Hinata stepped through the doors, Anko sprang on her.

"He's going to be here in thirty minutes!" she hissed, panicked. "What the heck have you been doing all day?"

Sai shrugged. "We've been here and there," he said. Anko seemed to attach some illicit connotation to this, because she narrowed her eyes, tugged Hinata into her office, and locked the door.

"Wipe yourself with this," she said, tossing Hinata a damp, warm towel. Hinata looked up at her in surprise.

"Wow," she whispered, "You've really been...prepared for me, haven't you, Anko-san?"

Anko rolled her eyes. "Moreso than you've been for yourself, kiddo. Hurry up."

Hinata undressed, realizing that she was now completely comfortable changing in front of Anko (even with all the staring.) When had that happened? She quickly unwound her bindings and let out a blissful breath as they slipped to her waist.

"Bra?" she asked, suddenly feeling rushed.

Anko handed it over. "You aren't planning on wearing boxers under the dress, are you?"

Hinata shimmied those off. "I wore my bloomers underneath," she said, revealing the not-quite boy-shorts she had on. Anko clucked her tongue in disapproval.

"Still butch," she sighed. "Oh well. He won't be seeing those."

"Ten minutes!" Sai said through the door.

Anko nodded and tossed her a bar of...something.

"You heard him. Chop chop."

Hinata blushed, accepted her offering of deodorant (guaranteed streak-free!), and slipped on the dress. The moment she had it on, Anko opened up her cabinet, pulling out three wigs, still on their busts.

"Do you want black, red tints, or brown?"

Hinata glanced up quickly at the collection. The black was most like her own before she'd cut it, and Anko had coiled the ends into wavy loops. She chose it automatically, and then settled herself into the makeup chair. Anko whipped out her case, her hands drifting over her colors.

"Ugh," she groaned, frustrated. "I don't do simple well." Snatching some light pink gloss, she quickly lined Hinata's lips and dusted her cheeks lightly with blush.

Sai knocked on the door impatiently. "Guys, I think he's here."

"What?" Hinata jumped up, lathering her legs in lotion and snatching up her shoes. Her toenails were unpainted and a bit unevenly clipped, but no matter-- there was no time.

"What do you think you're doing?" Anko hissed, dragging her back into the seat when she reached for the door.

Hinata looked up, confused and a bit flustered. "But he's here--!"

"You," Anko said slowly, sliding her tongue angrily over teeth, "Don't you know anything about men?"

Hinata turned slightly pink. "Absolutely nothing." Unless she counted what she'd learned from Sai, Sasuke and Deidara, and something told her they were far from typical.

"Arrive fashionably late," Anko deadpanned, tossing off Hinata's shoes. "Stay still. Your toes are a mess."

Hinata pursed her lips but sat still anyway. Anko was more experienced in this area anyway.

Ten minutes later, when Anko was still lazily debating between black and crimson polish, Hinata yanked herself up and out of her seat, strapped on her heels, and despite Anko's rampant protests, stepped out.

And abruptly froze.

Gaara was at the door already, poised to knock, while Sai stood helplessly behind him and mouthed a series of apologies.

Hinata managed a weak smile. He looked good in a suit. He wore it open and without a tie, probably ignorant that it looked good that way and going more for comfort instead.

"Erm...hello," Hinata managed, looking down at her feet. She cringed. The toes peeking through her shoes were really horrible. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.

"Hello," he said, straightening.

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked, twiddling her thumbs.

He shrugged. "About two hours?" Then he shrugged again, as though it were no big deal. "I wanted to get here first."

Behind the counter, Sai facepalmed.

Hinata blushed, cursing her own over-exuberance. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I--!"

He changed the subject. "You look very nice." Slowly, he lifted a hand; it hovered uncertainly over her cheek. "Your eyes-- is that their natural color?"

Hinata's hand jumped nervously to her eyes, brushing inadvertently against her hair-- which wasn't there. Her heart hammered.

_Crap. I left the wig and contacts!_

If she ran into anyone now, she'd be doomed.

Completely doomed.

He took her silence as discomfort, because he moved his hand away and let it rest at his side. "...Sorry."

"No! You haven't done anything! I was just thinking, and...yes, this is my natural color, and, and, you look really nice too."

She winced when the horrible ramble was over, but it seemed to have been effective, because Gaara gave her a small smile and nodded.

"Would you...?" he asked, extending a hand in invitation.

The butterflies in her stomach did somersaults. She took his hand and let him lead her outside.

Behind the counter, Sai finally let out a breath. Anko, who had watched the whole scene through a crack in her door, almost burst into tears.

"My baby girl's growing up," she said ruefully, wringing her hands together.

**0oo0oo0oo00oo**

By four, Sasuke had returned to the dorm, alone and disgruntled. He tried to bury himself in his as-of-yet undone homework, but that was proving impossible. He rolled over and went to sleep.

By five, he had given up on his nap and went to the gym, attacking the weights with vigor until Juugo found him and nearly crushed him under a four hundred pound weight.

By six, he was feeling ridiculously jittery; his hands shook and his heart was hammering. Hinata was probably getting ready for his little date, and the notion that he would be attempting to look good for  
someone he barely knew was irritating him. So when Naruto called again and asked to come chill (drink) in his room with the girls again, he couldn't even put up an argument, just 'hn-ed' as the blonde described all of his illustrious, most likely exaggerated, plans.

At six-thirty, he gave up and snatched up his phone. Scrolling down to the Ds, he did something he'd never, ever thought he would, something he'd sworn to the guy's face he wouldn't do when he'd given him the number in the first place.

He called Deidara.

He picked up on the first ring. "Missed me already, I see? You shouldn't hit your senpai—that hurt, you know."

Sasuke cut to the chase. "Where is Hinata going?"

"Why do you suppose I kn--?"

"You do," Sasuke breathed, terrified by the desperate edge in his voice. "I know you do."

There was a pause, and when Deidara spoke again, his voice was dead serious. "Are you sure you want to go after Hinata? I mean, you might be shocked by--."

"Cut the crap and tell me."

Deidara sighed. "Okay. Fine. I hope you've got a suit."

**0oo00oo00o**

A private driver. Not just any private driver, really. A private driver in a crisp Mercedes, which apparently was his.

"Who are you?" Hinata had asked after Gaara led her to it. The driver smiled genially as he opened the door, and then asked the 'Young Master' and his 'companion' to please sit down.

"My father was President of Suna," he said, referring to a giant finance firm, "Also a member of parliament. He's dead now."

Which meant that his children had been bequeathed very nicely.

"I'm sorry," Hinata said softly.

He smiled and took her hand slowly, as though afraid she would yank away. "Now, why do people always say that?"

"Because we're human too," she whispered, "and can understand the pain of loss."

He was silent. When she turned to him, he had closed his eyes. His hand, which had briefly relinquished hers, tightened over it again. Hinata watched him breathe—slowly, steadily, in and out—and then looked back down at her feet.

"You can, can you?" he finally said. "I wonder, what loss have you suffered through?"

She thought of the family she had once had, the family that had probably loved her and cherished her before they were snatched away by a wild, drunk, driver. She thought of the nightmares she'd had many years ago, of blood and contorted metal and bodies of people she didn't remember, faces that might have been like hers had they opened their eyes and let loose a smile. She thought of the Matron's beams, loving, but rehearsed, offered to every child evenly, her love handed out like a quickly diminishing ration.

She thought of herself, of the friends she should have made years ago, of the distance she put between herself and others, of her own lies and deceit.

And then, Hinata smiled.

"Nothing serious," she said, "Just enough that I feel it every now and then."

_Everyday._

Again, they were silent, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind shared between two people who share a common understanding. A mournful, bittersweet silence.

"You can talk to me now," she noted passively, when the car slowed to a stall.

"You're easy to talk to," was his very, very smooth reply.

She smiled, and watched the passing buildings as they finally arrived.

**Oo0o0oo0O0oo0o0o0**

"Michaelangelo's?" Sasuke said, as he walked side by side with Deidara, both dressed impeccably in black, open tuxes. Their pace was brisk and expressions oddly business-like. Deidara's hair was pulled up, leaving just one bang, and Sasuke had made an (unsuccessful) attempt to tame his hair in the back. If any fangirls spotted them, they'd be jumped on the spot.

"He's one of the Suna three," Deidara explained. "The late-Kazekage's kids. They're absolutely loaded. And sought after. Their youngest is known to be... Incredibly awkward."

_No wonder Hinata is attracted_, Sasuke thought bitterly.

"How the hell are we supposed to get in, then?"

Deidara turned to him, a twinkle in his eye. "Don't underestimate me, Uchiha."

**Oo0o0oo0O0oo0o0o0**

A quartet played slow music in the background, the fountain trickled elegantly, a gorgeous waitress in impossible heels made sure their water (in crystal-cut wine glasses) never ventured far below the rim,  
and the chef himself, a portly American, took their order in broken Japanese.

Hinata was overwhelmed. It wasn't just the fancy setting, or the fact that she felt like money was literally being burned away nonsensically to impress little old her (considering she was thoroughly enough impressed by non-instant udon).

It was that look on his face.

Egads, that was scary.

It wasn't menacing, or threatening. It was just so intense, as though he wanted to claim her completely, and she was beginning to doubt Anko's prediction that he wouldn't be seeing her unattractive bloomers that night. Not that she'd willingly let him, she amended in her mind.

Oh, and there was also that he still didn't want to let go of her hand.

"I hope this is nice for you," he'd intially stated, as though anyone in the world would find the setting unsatisfactory.

"Of course. It's gorgeous."

"You don't look happy, though," he observed. He cocked his head and looked at her intently, slowly releasing her hand from across the table.

She realized then that she must have been frowning. Recovering quickly with a quick smile, she said, half-truthfully, "I am happy."

"You aren't." He said it so confidently that she felt herself shrink.

At this, she blushed. "I-I am. I mean, someone like you…is here with someone like me. It's just…I...I think it might be...a bit much." She looked up quickly, as though to verify that he wasn't angry. He wasn't; actually, he seemed even more curious.

"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I-I mean," her eyes flitted around, trying to avoid his. They met anyway. "I mean, I think, maybe, just a picnic or a trip to an amusement park would've been just fine."

He looked surprised to hear this. "You wouldn't have thought those too simple?" he asked, incredulous.

She shrugged. "I'm a very simple girl."

He seemed to think on it a moment, and then stood and walked over solemnly to the waitress. They spoke for a moment, and the waitress nodded unsmilingly, finally twisting around and disappearing into the kitchen. Suddenly, the fountain trickled off, and the quartet began playing a slow, slightly familiar sound with some gusto.

"Dance?" Gaara asked, extending a hand in invitation. She looked up at it blankly, and then took it, sliding out of her seat and onto the floor.

**Oo0o0oo0O0oo0o0o0**

"What do you mean the entire restaurant is booked?" Sasuke said indignantly to the waitress. He tried to peek around her. "It's empty!"

The woman smiled. "We have an honorable guest today, sir," she said dutifully. "But we do have openings for--"

"I don't want to come to this shit-shack on any other day--!"

Deidara pushed Sasuke aside, sliding smoothly between him and the steadfast woman, who blocked their path diligently. "Couldn't you give us a small table, in a corner? We promise we'll stay out of sight."

The woman visibly loosened, licking her lips slowly as he spoke. Sasuke noticed that he'd switched to his hypnotic-voice again, and reminded himself to work on his own version sometime. Girls could be annoying as anything most of the time, but sometimes they were hella useful.

"Um...I don't think I'm supposed to..." she said, going from immovable worker to bumbling little girl in under ten seconds.

"Oh, come on, now," Deidara coaxed silkily. "We'll be good." He reached out and twirled a strand of her hair. She winced, and then pulled away, looking flustered.

"You're trying to seduce me!" she accused. Deidara smiled widely.

"Is it working?"

She seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then, raspily, cried out, "Yes!" and promptly grabbed Deidara to her and attempted to eat his face off.

"Go!" Deidara managed to mouth when the woman's lips switched messily. to his neck. "What are you waiting f--ah! Easy there, kitty!"

Now completely disturbed, Sasuke slunk past the newly-formed couple and into the restaurant. Some strings were playing in the distance, a tune he immediately recognized as _Pachelbel's Canon_. An elegant statue of a swordfish sprang out from the center of a fountain. He couldn't help but stare-- everything was sparkling black granite and mirrors and marble, the high ceilings were painted meticulously, and the entire place reminded him of an expensive movie set.

Hands in pockets, he passed empty tables until he stopped at one, where a pair of glasses were waiting, filled with water, with a delicate bowl of salad in the center.

It's occupants were nowhere to be found.

**Oo0o0oo0O0oo0o0o0**

"You put your hand here, like this..." Gaara adjusted Hinata's hand on his shoulder, shuddering when her cold fingers brushed too close to his neck.

"...Is this right?"

"Almost." A chuckle. "Step forward, easy. There. Now let me lead."

From the roots of her hair to her chest, Hinata had turned poppy-pink. So Gaara was high-society. That didn't mean he should know how to dance! Did it? Of course it did. She felt incredibly common next to him and wondered how Temari could be so grungy while her brother was so... blatantly aristocratic.

He danced well. A little stiff, perhaps, but fluid enough for the numerous company dinners he had probably been forced to attend. His movements were calculated, trained, and a wee bit unnatural. Still, he was more graceful than she could hope to be. That, and he made her feel like a princess, dancing in wide circles with her handsome prince (kinda) charming, smiling like an idiot.

Meanwhile, Deidara managed to pull away from his deranged lover, who had plastered his face with lipstick and very nearly pulled off the front of her dress in her haste to pull him closer. He adjusted his half-loosened ponytail and suit jacket.

"It's been nice meeting you, Kitten."

She swished her hair back into place and hoisted her dress up from her chest.

"My name's Mokoko," she said sourly, reverting quickly back to the stiff, stern employee from before. "And you aren't allowed back there. That area's reserve--!"

Deidara sighed and pulled out a small slip of paper. "Call me," he said, licking his lips for effect and grinning monstrously when she lapsed back into gaga land.

"I will," she said dreamily, and made a show of pushing the slip into her bra. He wolf-whistled, winked, and then rushed into the hall.

Where he found Sasuke staring idly at the fountain.

"What the hell are you doing?" Deidara asked indignantly. "I sacrificed a little bit of my innocence so you could get away, and this is the thanks I get?"

"What?" Sasuke snapped, unfazed. "It's a pretty fountain."

Deidara gave it a cursory glance and snorted, unimpressed. "I could mold that in a few days, blow it up, and it would still look more artistic than this thing. C'mon," he grabbed Sasuke by the arm, attempting to drag him forward. "I think it's brainwashing you."

Sasuke nodded. In truth, after seeing the table set up, he no longer wanted to see him-- to acknowledge what was happening as real. The music flooding the air, the beautiful fountain, the expensive adornments- he had no means for stuff like it. He could never compete with this guy.

Not that he wanted to, of course. He had only come to check on his naive roommate and make sure he wasn't being forced to do anything gross. That was all.

_Lies_.

Deidara grit his teeth. "Look," he said, supremely annoyed, "If you give up now, I won't acknowledge you as my rival."

Sasuke glared at him, but somehow the look seemed half-assed. "I never asked for your approval," he said.

"You're a coward," Deidara hissed.

"And you're a fag," Sasuke retorted rather hypocritically.

Deidara clenched his fists, looking very much like he wanted lay one on the arrogant little freshman. "You're just scared of admitting it!"

Sasuke was really getting angry now--he could feel bile rising slowly up his throat.

"Admitting what?"

"That you're in love with Hinata!"

Unfortunately, the quartet chose that precise moment to end the song. Deidara's words echoed like a prophecy through the open room, over and over and over.

His words were quickly followed by the sickening sound of knuckles pressing too hard against flesh when Sasuke swung at him.

**Oo0o0oo0O0oo0o0o0**

**A/N: **Oooh. Dramarama. A few silly parts interspersed with a bunch of serious stuff and a sprinkle of angst. You better enjoy! Remember, review! The more I get, the happier I am, the happier I am, the faster I update, and the faster I update, the sooner you get to see the upcoming SHOWDOWN! Woot!

Also, if you've been reading Forever Elusive, I'm seriously considering deleting it. I'm on extreme writer's-block for that one right now, and I don't really know what I want to happen next. Should I? Feedback, plois.

:D


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I was doing so well for a while! Updates every week or two, snarky little disclaimers, all the nine yards! Sorry for the wait.**

**As I've said, I type my ffs on my iTouch, and I accidentally somehow deleted about half of the next chapter. I've kind of lost the umph to retype it...I got three paragraphs in and almost said "screw it." So motivate me with some nice, long reviews, 'mkay?**

**Disclaimer: Own Naruto I do not. :P**

**Chapter Thirteen**

They'd finally managed to lapse into regular enough conversation. He had told her, very openly considering they were on a first date and such a revelation would send many girls running for their lives, that he'd nearly killed someone once, but that he had since sorted out those problems with himself and the person, and now was aspiring to join the political arena to help cleanse it of the deceit and corruption that ran rampant within it. Hinata, who was an eternal optimist herself, admired him all the more and thought that he was the  
perfect mix of nerd/bad boy/prince that every girl in the world would die for, and proceeded to list in her head all the ways in which she was lacking.

It was after she had bashfully told him that she attended Tokyo Academy (carefully avoiding mentioning hich one-- it felt wrong to lie to a kindred spirit outright) and they had talked about his sister-- who he confessed he already knew knew her ("Temari thinks you have a 'real set of balls', if you'll excuse me")--that the song finally came to a close, winding down and softening.

She beamed up at him, feeling truly happier than she ever thought she had. She told him so.

He blushed, the same baby-pink shade from before, and she nearly fainted again from just how darned cute it was. For a second, she was certain that she'd found her soulmate. After such a short time, she felt so comfortable with him-- she could see herself sharing her darkest secrets and knowing, with utmost certainty, that he wouldn't judge her, that he'd love her all the more for them.

Sweat beaded on her forehead; she wiped it away. The quartet played the final, quivering note, low and melodious and resounding, and she let Gaara pull her gently to him. She pressed her head to his chest, stopped moving, just stood and held him and felt his heart beat and wondered why she'd ever thought crushes were useless, pointless things, especially when this one felt so raw and real.

That was when she heard it.

Deidara-san's voice, his deep, serious one, booming furiously through the room.

"...that you're in love with Hinata!"

The happy couple leapt apart as though a lightening bolt had passed between them.

"Hyuuga-san?" Gaara said questioningly. His voice was small. She looked up at him as if to show that she had no idea what was going on either.

In love with...her?

Not Sai. He would have no qualms about telling her to her face. Then, who...?

Then, there was a blunt, fleshy thud, followed by a grunt that must have been Deidara's.

"Shut up? Don't talk about things you don't understand!"

Hinata's heart sank, and then changed it's mind and leapt halfway up her throat. Sasuke's voice was unmistakable, especially so passionate. He sounded like he'd accidentally reverted back to Edmund.

"We should leave," Gaara said, suddenly looking very solemn. He reached for her hand. She took it, squeezed, and then let go.

"I-I know these guys."

Another smack, another grunt. These were coming faster now. For whatever reason, it sounded like those two were really pummeling each other.

Half of her wanted to flee. It would be the easiest thing to do-- take a back door exit with Gaara and pretend to be clueless when Sasuke returned to the dorm covered in cuts and bruises. It was safe. She knew what would happen if she stepped out and revealed herself. Sasuke would know, and that would be the end.

But it wouldn't be right to just walk away. Whatever this was, she could tell the central argument was herself, and she hated that. Hated that more than the thought of leaving TABs. Hated that more than the humiliation and loss that would come with her expulsion.

_Hated that more than the thought of being hated._

"Maybe if I'm lucky," she whispered to herself, "They'll take me into TAGs."

Gaara furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"

She replied with a quick smile, sad but determined.

"I'm sorry," she said, "There are certain things I haven't been frank with you about. And if you decide that you don't like me after all of this, I--" she stopped, wishing she didn't have to say something quite  
so drastic, but knowing very well just how necessary it was, "--I'll understand."

Gaara nodded slowly, never before having been in such a situation and really clueless as to how to react.

Then, with sharp, quick steps, she walked purposefully toward the sounds. Gaara followed uncertainly behind her, nearly dazed with confusion.

It was behind the fountain of the swordfish that she found them, a mass of blonde and black and white, tussling and rolling like puppies in grass, but with fists meant to hurt rather than friendly, nipping teeth. In the few seconds she'd stood there, they had rolled no less than three times, switching from the attacker to the attacked with alarming speed.

"Stop it!" she cried, dragging Deidara (who had just managed to get the upper hand and seemed intent on  
smashing his face in) off of Sasuke and tossing him roughly to the other wall. He slid backward a few feet, and then finally came to a stop against a marble pillar. He grinned maniacally up at her, and then spat. It was red and glistening against the glassy black floors. Gaara's eyes darkened.

Sasuke closed his eyes, leaning back and breathing, catching his breath. Hinata thought of fleeing right then, before he decided to open them again, and then thought better of it. She was this far in--  
might as well get this off her chest right then and there.

He lolled his head back, and for a second, she thought he'd passed out.

Then,

"Damn. Had no idea that little priss could hit so hard."

Deidara made a choked sound that would have been a laugh was it not drowned out by his desperate pants for air.

"You shouldn't fight," she said softly, in her own, true voice-- the one Sasuke only heard when she was nervous or flustered.

Except now she wasn't.

He opened his eyes.

And swore.

***  
The first thing Sasuke's mind registered upon opening his eyes was this.

Hinata...Hinata was--wearing a dress.

It was a pretty, tasteful thing, a voice in the back of his mind said, but mostly he asked himself whether his roommate had some kind of creepy fetish and wondered why he hung out with such weirdos.

And then Hinata leaned over and pressed his hand to his cheek (where an angry bruise was beginning to form) and the motion forced that little red dress down just a tad and...

...holy fuck.

Hinata had cleavage. Ample cleavage.

Gaara blinked, wondering whether, as Hinata's date, it would be appropriate to pummel the guy who could stare so fixedly at her chest.

He swore, several times in his head, even more out loud, banging his head slowly against the fountain behind him. Somehow, Deidara found the energy to burst out into wild, racuous laughter.

Gingerly, Sasuke dragged himself to his feet. Hinata offered an arm to help; he gave her a terrifying glare instead. Hinata, who had ridden on an influx of sudden courage, felt all of it wane under his glower.

"So," he said, voice dangerously steady, "You're a girl."

"Of course she's a girl," Gaara said, no longer able to keep silent amidst all of this nonsense, and really quite peeved that his date had been so completely ruined. "Could you possibly think otherwise?"

Hinata winced and looked at her feet, at the unclipped toenails she'd wanted so badly to hide.

"That's not what she's been posing as for the past few months." He spoke louder, and something in his tone told her to run and duck for cover. "Isn't that right, honorable roommate who is 'most certainly a man?'"

Hinata felt her face burn with shame and wished, now, that she had just fled. What had she been thinking? Everything was ruined now. _He hates me. Look at those eyes._

"And you believed it?" Gaara seemed completely unconcerned by the fact that she went to TABs, and Hinata secretly suspected that Temari had dropped something a little stronger than just hints.

Sasuke glared hotly at his once-rival, crossing his arms. Even with half of his face red and sweat wetting his hair to his forehead, he looked icy and formidable.

"You're right," he said, "I should've known better."

Deidara's laughs slowed to a slow, contented purr.

"I-I'm sorry for lying to you," Hinata found herself saying, trying to keep herself from shaking. "I'm sorry for...keeping this from you. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble..."

Deidara pulled himself to his feet. "You? Cause us trouble? We've caused you enough heartache to last you a decade." He clasped a hand over Sasuke's shoulder, gripping hard. "Why don't we put aside our  
differences and leave these two to enjoy the rest of their night?"

Sasuke shoved Deidara's arm off roughly.

"Don't...touch me."

He held his gaze for one strained second. When Deidara didn't succumb by turning away, he tch-ed, sent them all a stony glare, and half-marched, half-limped, out of the room.

Deidara looked blankly between Gaata and Hinata, who was nearly in tears, and then gave a sweeping, theatrical bow.

"Well, sorry about that mess," Deidara said, "I'll be leaving now." He turned briefly to Hinata. "Kakashi-sensei wants you guys at the black box by eleven tomorrow."

Two fat tears trailed down her cheeks. "By tomorrow, I won't even be able to go to TABs."

Gentle fingers brushed them away and then moved to her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Hinata looked up. Deidara was grinning solemnly, blue eyes determined. "Sasuke won't say a word. I won't let him do that—_he _won't let him do that. Besides, you may not have noticed, but he's completely infatuated with you."

"With the male me," she whimpered. "He hates me now. He has to."

"He doesn't," Deidara assured her. His eyes flickered up, caught the teeming ones behind her. Suddenly looking (uncharacteristically) sheepish, he took a step backward.

Hinata froze, her cheeks turning red, and then whipped toward Gaara.

She blanched.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

"What is it?" Gaara asked, who was looking just a bit pissed.

Hinata swung around. Anyone with sense knew that bad news was coming.

"G-Gaara-kun," she said, bowing low. "M-my number...is __________. Please call me, if you can still think well of me."

"I can," he said, looking pensive, "Though if I start regularly dating a crossdresser, it might be problematic for my career."

Hinata bit her lip. "Well...I mean..."

Gaara tilted his head to one side, his eyes scrutinizing. "Please don't misunderstand me. I still like you very much." He scrubbed his scalp. "It's not my place to say, but I don't approve of your current situation, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Maybe...maybe you'll explain someday."

He was _so understanding_. Maybe the magic of the previous moment was gone, but...

She hugged him tightly as Deidara looked on in envy.

"I'm sorry," she said again. She turned to Deidara and bowed steeply.

Then, she wheeled on the heel of her foot, racing after her furious roommate who likely wanted  
nothing else to do with her.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sing my praises. Yes, you love me. I'm awesome. Amazing. Say it, please.**

I've updated with a long chapter! Thank the Korean drama 'Personal Taste" for the inspiration. (Lee Min Ho is so beautiful.) Really, I'd lost about half of this chapter, so please forgive the crappy rewriting. The original was loads better, but now it's gone gone gone. Also, I seemed to be quite found of repetition in this chapter, especially in threes. :P

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Hinata would be proposed to in every chapter by a random male character, Sasuke, in the middle of his blind revenge rants, would say, "Wtf am I doing?" and return to Konoha, and Naruto wouldn't wear so much damn orange.

*****  
Chapter Fourteen  
*****

It was springtime, but the evening air was so cold. It bit mercilessly at her face, cutting into her skin. She closed her eyes to it and cuddled her jacket closer to herself.

It had been an hour since she'd left the Serpent, since she'd breezed past Anko and Sai half in tears and nearly destroyed her red dress in her haste to get it off. Anko had stared gravely at her the whole while, feeling nothing for her creation and everything for her protege.

What had happened? A couple hours ago, she'd been the perfect picture of ladylike poise, of calm and control. The moment she walked into the cafe, though, away from Gaara and Deidara, all of that had dissipated like smoke, and she'd felt an awful chill pass through her.

He hated her. She'd seen his face, seen that utter contempt.

What had she done. What had she done?

Her hands shook as she fumbled with her room key, drunkenly finding the door knob and grasping it firmly. He probably wasn't there, in fact, she really hoped he wasn't. If he was, it meant that either he was moving out...or she was.

She stumbled inside clumsily, closed the door with a heavy sigh, and then nearly shuttled right back when six heads whipped toward her and flashed killer bright smiles.

"Hinata!!" they called out in unison.

It took her a second to regain her composure. She barely recognized the crew-- it was as though her brain was clouded over- her eyes told her that these people were familiar, were her friends, but her mind refused to acknowledge them. Of course it would. They didn't know who...what... she was. They didn't know the truth.

"You weren't here yet," Naruto said, his voice suspiciously lethargic. "We started playing before you guys. Sorry?"

Sasuke wasn't there. She scanned the room and panicked, then reminded herself that this was exactly what she wanted. She didn't know what she'd do with herself if she were alone.

"It's o-o-okay," she said, standing stock-still, several feet away.

Sakura stood up from her precarious perch on the edge of the bed and half-skipped to her. She tossed her arms carelessly around Hinata's neck, eyes half-lidded.

"Loosen up, Hinata." She muzzled her nose into her shoulder and breathed. "Oh..." she exhaled, "You smell good."

A mix of vanilla body spray and Gaara's sharp cologne, mixed in with salt tears and a bit of Deidara's blood.

"Thank you." Sakura was so close. Why did she still feel so distant? Over her shoulder and the tufts of soft pink hair--when had her hands started threading through it?-- she caught Temari's eyes, narrowed, suspicious, but mostly concerned.

Her hand dropped, Sakura mewled in disappointment and pulled away, grabbing Hinata's hands and dragging her down to sit. She crumpled down to her knees like something broken.

At that exact moment, the door burst open.

Hinata felt time freeze around her, felt her heart rate escalate, climbing, climbing, she could hear it pounding in her ears now, a demented drumbeat, and oh god if it didn't stop now she was going to die...

She clutched her hand to her chest, encouraging it to slow. Around her, she could vaguely hear the others talking, but the voices were muted, as though she were listening through a door. Kiba was laughing, obviously drunkenly, and sloshing his beer; Rock Lee, who by principle never drank, edged away from him and exclaimed indignantly that his youthful green attire was dry-clean only. Naruto had just half-squealed, "Teme! You came! I'm so proud!", something that any other day she would have found hilarious, given the way he'd managed to slur 'teme' into a single syllable.

The fear arose raw and real, however, when he spoke.

"Get out."

Had the intruders been sober, they might've considered the consequences of disobeying and fled. As this was not the case, they laughed like he had just told the funniest joke.

"Stop being a prude, Sas-u-gay," Kiba said. Naruto tossed an arm over his shoulder in drunk-manly-loving agreement.

"C'mon, sit down. Look, ain't it lucky? Hinata just showed up too."

Sasuke gave a 'hn' and sat down. She lifted her head nervously. His gaze skimmed right over her, then forced it's way right through, to Tenten.

They sat in silence, detached from the racuous laughter and raunchy joking occurring not six inches away. Hinata idly traced the condensation around the rim of her unopened can, over and over again. She lifted her gaze-- Sasuke was knocking back his like it was water after a tough workout. She winced. He'd been a calm drunk last time, but that time he hadn't been pissed.

Distantly, she heard Kiba declare a game of spin the bottle, yanking an emptied one from behind him. Rock Lee, who was staying chaste for Sakura, quickly opted out, and Sasuke surprised everyone by grunting lowly in acquiesance. Excitedly, Sakura and Tenten squealed about their good fortune--Naruto, Sasuke, Kiba, and Hinata, all at once? (Either they'd be making nice with a cutie, or they'd get a wonderful display of sexy-hot shonen-ai action, or so their warped logic said.)

Someone spun-- Kiba first. The bottle swung wildly for a few turns and slowed. There was a collective howl as it stopped, nose pointed directly at Temari.

The older girl looked down at her verdict, blinked, and then looked up, giving Kiba a dangerously sultry look. The temperature in the room went up ten degrees.

"Now or never," she said teasingly, and then leaned across the circle to grab Kiba by the shirt. He shrugged, chuckled nervously, looked down at her too-close, pressed together cleavage, and pressed his lips to hers.

A moment later, Temari pulled back, wiped her mouth nonchalantly with the back of her hand, and said, no worse for wear, "Next" while Kiba wobbled on his knees like a man sucked of his soul.

Sakura took the bottle next and spun enthusiastically. So enthusiastically, in fact, that she flung it across the room. It landed with a dull thud, pointed at Tenten, who gave her a shrug that said, "Oh, what the hell." Naruto looked like he was about to wet himself in his excitement.

As though they did this every day, the girls loped their arms over each other's shoulders and pecked each other lightly.

Kiba and Naruto looked visibly disappointed; Sasuke hadn't looked at all.

"That wasn't sexy at all," Kiba said sourly.

Tenten glared at him. "This is spin the bottle, not a lesbian strip club," she responded, sounding very sober and very deadly. Kiba instantly clamped his mouth shut. It was a well known fact that Tenten had a penchant for collecting knives.

Naruto loped over to the end of room, retrieved the bottle, and handed it dutifully to Sasuke. Hinata stiffened, her fists clenching in her lap.

Sasuke studied the bottle like he'd never seen one before, turning it over and over again in his hands. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth tight.

'_He's completely wasted.'_

Slowly, he placed the bottle on the floor and spun. It was lethargic. It took barely a second for it to settle and stop-- on her.

She got her wish-- for a moment, her heart stopped.

Sasuke's eyes lifted from the ground to her wide ones. It was the first time he'd looked at her since the restaurant.

She shuddered. His gaze. It was so...empty.

The girls were high-diving and squealing in sheer joy-- what more could they ask for? The pretty, timid, girlish uke, and his badboy hunk seme. It was a scene right out of a shonen-ai manga.

Except said seme never looked quite so murderous, and said uke not quite so terrified. (Or they didn't in the series they read; Sakura and Tenten preferred the innocent true-love crap.)

Hinata moved conspicuously to the balls of her feet, prepared to stand and escape. "I-I don't think--!"

"You don't think what, Hyuuga?" Sasuke snapped. He leaned forward, grabbed her face roughly in his hands, and forced it an inch from his. Sakura gave a shriek of ecstasy and promptly fainted.

She'd forgotten how beautiful he was. Even now, with his dark eyes piercing and a healthy-looking bruise splayed out under one eye, he was gorgeous. She'd have been much more at ease if he weren't. Like this, he looked like vengeful angel, righteously indignant, willing to stop at nothing to punish those who had sinned against him.

He closed the distance between them.

It was rough, it was hard. The movements were clumsy and obviously inexperienced, but forceful. What was he trying to do? This was nothing like the kiss Deidara had given her-- that had left her feeling weightless, had made her bones turn to butter, even given the circumstances. This one shifted her body to high alert. She stiffened, squirmed, struggled. His hands, desperate, slid from her face to her waist, and he was crushing her to him, knocking the the air right out of her chest. Even their tipsy audience could tell that this was no game, not even a declaration of love. It was a fight for dominance, an accusation, an indictment.

Twisting her arms out from between them, her hands found his hair. She tugged back on it and was surprised when he gave in easily, withdrawing with an abrupt smack.

Oh god. The irises stretched over his eyes; they bore down on her like a pair of black holes. His lips were blood-red-- they'd fought valiantly enough.

Oh god. She'd hurt him. She could see all the million accusations storming out at her in this silence, this cold, chilling, terrifying quiet. Why wasn't Naruto screaming like he usually did? Anything to break the tension.

He stood wordlessly and left. Hinata could only watch as the door clicked shut.

* * *

Sasuke was gone for three days and four nights.

On the first day, she'd cut class and skipped rehearsal, terrified of meeting him again. Instead, she'd spent the day with a full box of Kleenex, blinds drawn, knees to chest, replaying the moment she'd pushed him away in her mind again and again, realizing with each second that Deidara had been right, that he probably had liked her, and she'd might as well have taken a cleaver to his heart.

The second day, she was furious. She'd stomped into Kurenai's classroom with all the theatrics of a demon-child, neither giving nor offering explanation for her sudden moods. Her portrait of a male had come out looking precisely like her roommate (former-roommate, she reminded herself as she rubbed charcoal into the eyes, making them black-black-black).

She hated him that day. Any one with sense ought to have reacted the way Sai had, or even Deidara, she reasoned furiously. Even if she weren't a male, she was still Hinata, and if Hinata wasn't good enough for him, well, he sure as hell wasn't good enough for her.

On the third day, she felt nothing. She woke up to a room that she expected to be empty. It was. She poured herself a mug of coffee, black, though she usually loaded it with cream and sugar, and distantly contemplated her plan of action. If he reported her, which she found quite likely, she'd undoubtedly be kicked out. She'd have to get another job, a respectable nine-to-fiver, keep her mind busy with her late nights at the Serpent, and gradually earn enough money for another year's tuition. She'd use a chunk of that to move abroad. Maybe America? English was a useful language, after all. Once there, she would apply to a small Liberal Arts school, study every subject under the sun aside from studio art. She'd earn a degree, buy a condo, and let the rest of her life take it's course.

Then again, if he chose to leave her be, she considered transferring out at the semester mark and doing the same exact thing.

She thought these things with no sense of loss. Lips tight, she went to class, apologized to Naruto for yelling at him the day before, and ate lunch.

To the average onlooker, she looked just fine, until they saw her eyes.

* * *

"You're out of coffee," Sasuke said sourly, dumping the remnants of the instant mix into a mug of almost-boiling water.

Hozuki glared at him venomously. Sasuke stared back, unfazed, and stirred his coffee with a chopstick.

This bastard was getting on his last nerve. "Look, I said you could stay one night. I think three is..." he bit his lip in thought. "You know. Fish."

Sasuke scoffed. "'Fish and visitors stink after three days?' You call yourself an actor, but you can't even remember that one?"

Okay, prodigy or not, this freshman was pushing it. Look at him. Drinking the last of his coffee. Leaving his dirty clothes all over the floor. Not washing his own freaking dishes. He was Hozuki Suigetsu, fanged badass extraordinaire, not a fucking_ hotel service.  
_  
"Go make up with your roommate," he said. The only person acting more psychotic than Sasuke was his cute little roomie, who'd practically bit him when he corrected one of his lines at rehearsal. Which, by the way, Sasuke wasn't going to either.

Seriously, he was about to make some Fish filet if they didn't get their acts together. And gtfo of his personal space.

"You're out of toothpaste too," Sasuke announced, stepping out of his bathroom with a red toothbrush (what the hell? Was that his too?) sticking half out of his mouth and a lining of blue foam around his lips.

That was it. The little shmuck had crossed the line.

"Sasuke," he stepped right up to him. Sasuke looked down at him, unaffectedly brushing his teeth from side to side. Suigetsu, a firm believer in brushing in circles, cringed and wondered why he'd ever let the bastard in in the first place. "Listen. You've been skipping rehearsal and stealing all of my crap."

Sasuke mumbled something that sounded aggravatingly like, "Not stealing, borrowing," which nearly made Hozuki pop a vessel.

"Spit that out," he said, rubbing his temples. "What the hell are you doing brushing your teeth now? It's three in the afternoon." He was surprised when Sasuke actually obeyed, washed his mouth out, and reemerged three times more intimidating than before.

"You were saying?" Sasuke raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"I was saying," he said, "If you don't pack up and get your ass out of here in the next two minutes, I'm going to do something you really won't like."

Sasuke's eyes darkened in response to the challenge. "You will, will you?"

Easily, Suigetsu hoisted up Sasuke's backpack from on top of his desk. With the laidback calm of a person who knows he is about to exact the perfect revenge, he tugged a window open, unzipped his backpack, and, before Sasuke could scream, "Not my three hundred dollar textbooks!", emptied the contents out.

Sasuke was at his side in seconds, arms outstretched to throttle him.

Except he was already half out the window, staring down in utmost horror, whispering "oh fudgecrack" to himself again and again.

So instead, Sasuke yanked him backwards and whipped him around to face him, stretching his ninety dollar cashmere v-neck sweater in the process. "What?"

"I-" he gasped, eyes wide. "I-I think I just killed someone."

Sasuke twitched, shoved Suigetsu to the side, and peered out the window.

Within seconds, he grabbed his empty backpack, tossed his shirts into it, rushed out the door and practically flew down the stairs.

Seriously, was fate just having a great time messing with him these days?

* * *

Hinata was contemplating death.

It was a dark subject, one she only ever touched about once a year when she was feeling particularly moody, or had read some Poe or something. Her mind would snap back to that day, so many years ago. She knew little about her past, just that when she was about five, her entire family had died in a car accident, and that she was the only survivor. For the longest while, she'd been convinced that she didn't  
remember anything.

Now she wasn't so sure.

The images came in nightmares; the nightmares came as distorted stop-image scenes. The car moving, she cooing at a toddler strapped snugly in a carseat--her sibling?--a woman, she could tell she was heartbreakingly beautiful, even though all she could see were her eyes (pale, like hers, and warmer than any she'd ever seen) smiling back at them. Then, a lurch, a bang, a crunch--they're flying, the baby's screaming, it's high-pitched like a banshee's cry--then pain, and blood (so much of it) and the woman's eyes are dulled. Next she's gone gone gone and wakes up in a cold sweat with her arms curled tightly around Bun-bun, whom Sasuke has left behind. It smells like him.

She asked herself, with slightly more emotion than she had been exhibiting lately, why she had been left behind.

It was at that moment that she felt something solid and heavy connect with her skull, like a bludgeon. She was down in a second flat, with only enough time to smile at the cheap trick Kami had played on her.

* * *

He found her lying in a crumpled heap on the grass, arms folded over her chest like a corpse. His heart stopped, then he saw her chest rising steadily and he relaxed. A small crowd had formed, everyone pointing and exclaiming stupidly, nobody actually doing a damn thing to help.

Sasuke shoved past them.

"Hey man," one of his victims said, "That isn't co--"

Sasuke shoved him again, this time by the face.

He didn't even think, just knelt down and gathered her up. She was heavy--he wasn't surprised, after seeing her in a dress he realized how curvy she actually was (how hadn't he noticed those hips before? They were glaring in his face now) but he didn't care. Blood trickled down her forehead.

"Suigetsu," Sasuke shouted over to his panicking upperclassman, who'd scurried frantically down the stairs after him, "Get my stuff. I'm taking Hinata to the infirmary."

Suigetsu, who had seen Sasuke slam some guy's face in barely a minute ago, nervously obliged.

* * *

She awoke abruptly to white walls and soft classical music-- Pachelbel Canon? Her hand darted to her head and she groaned. There was cloth instead of skin, some kind of large, unsightly bandage. It hurt. She bit her lip.

Someone pulled back the curtain, and then a tall form was hovering over her bed, brow furrowed and eyes dark.

"You're up."

She should've been more surprised to see him; really, she was just relieved.

"Yes."

Sasuke sighed, and then turned away. He dropped into a chair, suspiciously close to her cot.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You know, for bringing me." _And talking to me. And not leaving me.  
_  
He grunted lowly, and then stood again. "I think I'm going to report you," he admitted gruffly.

She smiled; she'd anticipated this. "Okay."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't you hate me?" Kami, why did he sound so desperate?

She shook her head, a bit amused in spite of herself. "No, I don't think so." A pause. "Actually, I think I like you a bit. You're a good...you're a good friend."

Weak. Even in this situation, he felt his heart lurch, his muscles clench. His head spun. Hinata was still smiling, not sunnily like she normally did, but contentedly. It was mature and demure. Even dressed in frumpy boy clothes and with dirt in her hair, he thought she was terribly, terribly cute.

His hands moved to her chin, tilting it up. He saw the smile drop, the eyes widen in fear, the hands fist in her sheets. Leaning down, he watched her struggle helplessly with a sick kind of glee.

"I'm not your friend," he said simply, and then let her go, snapping the curtains back and walking away. He listened with satisfaction to the badly concealed sobs coming from her corner and smirked.

It felt good to feel that, for once, he'd won, even if he wasn't quite sure what.

*******

**A/N: Chapter close! –curtains drop- **

**I don't know how to feel about this chapter. Tell me your opinions, by you know, clicking that wonderful little button just below. You know, the one that says Review. That one. Cha. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **I'm so very sorry. Actually, I'm not particularly in love with this chapter. I lost inspiration for CQ a little while back, and I'm trying hard to get it back again. :P Honestly, I haven't read this chapter over again, so please excuse the errors and don't be afraid to bslap me if some of them are too obnoxious.

Also, I'm graduating tomorrow! So excited. :D My last day of Snr year was amazing! We literally did an epic Lady-Gaga themed Congo line through the school, all three floors (I was disgusting by the end of it) and even marched right through the Principal's office. The look on his face = WIN! Like, "Dangit, I should punish these kids, but that means I'd have to tell our Saludatorian and half of the school's Summa Cum Laude that they can't walk at graduation…better let this one go."

**Disclaimer: **Naruto isn't mine. O_O I know, I'm shocked too.

**Chapter Fifteen**

It took Sasuke an extraordinarily long time to walk back to Aoi, hands stuffed in pockets, scowling. All the way there, TAG girls followed him industriously, some of whom he expressly knew to be lesbians, snapping pictures for future reference, squealing excitedly about how perfect a model he was for their latest "angsty man walking in the rain" painting or print or whatever.

God, he didn't understand her. He'd been a complete dick, yet she had the gall to still smile stupidly and call him her 'friend.' Did she even know what friends were? True, he'd said they were before, but that was when she was a guy and it had seemed perfectly natural for him to consider his too-cute-to-be-proper roommate as a bud.

"So clueless!" he yelled to the open air, tossing his head up in exasperation. The TAGS girls cooed in excitement and began snapping photos more rapidly.

Once he finally got to his room, having locked the annoying girls out at the door, he sighed, grit his teeth, and stepped in, and swiveled around when he heard a series of disturbing snorting and slurping sounds.

Naruto and Kiba were there already, sitting cross-legged on the carpet and helping themselves to several cartons of instant ramen. Upon his entrance, they glanced up and grinned so widely that the wet noodles  
hanging out of their mouths looked like baleen.

Sasuke's eyes twitched as the two idiots turned back to their food- his food!- and began downing with more gusto. He took a deep, shuddering breath-was that seasoning sprinkled on the carpet?- closed his eyes, and calmly pointed at the door.

"Out," he said murderously. "Now."

He waited for the sounds of scampering footsteps, maybe a few shrieks of terror. They never came. Confused, he opened his eyes and found the pair staring wide-eyed up at him, slurping slowly.

"What," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Are you doing? Put down my ramen and get your sorry asses out of my room!"

Kiba gulped down the contents of his mouth and scowled. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

Sasuke froze. No. This was not happening. Kiba Inuzuka had not, could not possibly have, snapped at him. _Somebody hold my earrings, some sh*t's about to go down,_ he thought, his fists clenching. And the fact that the boys were still staring up at him with eyes like stupid little bushbabies totally was not helping.

"You are eating MY food in MY room and getting your crap all over my floors, all uninvited. And you act like this is natural?"

Kiba shrugged. "It isn't just your room, you know," he said, "Hinata- kun gave us the key this afternoon. He said to come in as much as we like. Besides," he downed what must've been his fourth cup, and then opened up another carton, lifted a huge kettle, and poured more boiling water into it, "This is Hinata-kun's ramen. He bought it."

"You don't have any proof!" Sasuke fumed. Inuzuka Kiba was not using logic. He wasn't. It wasn't possible_. It wasn't freaking probable.  
_  
Kiba fished inside his pocket and produced a small slip of paper. "His receipt," he said, shaking his cup around triumphantly. "For all one hundred cups."

"He's an angel," Naruto exclaimed between bites.

Sasuke snatched the receipt from him, furiously scanning it. It was definitely hers- he teemed, who spent that much on ramen and gave it to bozos who'd deplete the entire stock in one day? She must've been out of her mind. Or depressed. Or both.

"Your sodium levels are going to be deadly high," he muttered. They didn't hear him, too busy eating. Frowning, he fished his mp3 out of his backpack, plugged in his headphones, and wondered when the hell  
the fight had rushed out of him.

***

"Be more careful from now on, Hyuuga-san."

The nurse patted Hinata's shoulder gingerly, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. Hinata scowled. She hated being pitied, and no doubt that was exactly what the nurse was doing- she'd seen  
her red eyes, after all, and the angry tear stains trailing her cheeks.

It had been something of a relief to cry, she thought. She'd held back the worst of the storm for a few days, and she felt as though it had very nearly killed her. His words hurt, but the pain was far better than that odd indifference she'd felt before. She stretched, felt her joints crack, and thought that she hadn't really been loving her art lately, and wasn't it about time she took Sai up on his promise anyway? It would do her good to put aside Sasuke's dramatics for a while, call Gaara and apologize, and focus on why she was here- to  
fulfill her dream.

After all, she had no idea how much longer she'd be allowed here.

Sighing, she stood and left the infirmary, hands tucked into her pockets. It was early evening already; the sun was already beginning to beeline toward the horizon.

***

"Right now?" Sai said, scowling. "You want me to teach you this very minute?"

The voice over the phone was Hinata's, but somehow considerably more certain and considerably less sane. "Yes. Right now."

He smirked. He had a rather massive piece to finish (Blue period, acrylics) and he was barely even halfway done. The exhibition entry deadline was fast approaching- he had less than two weeks to produce at least ten stylized pieces of work to send for consideration. Work, among other things, had been draining his time lately, and his hours spent "overtime" (he grinned, Anko-san was a freak in more ways than one) weren't particularly helping.

"Have you even considered the possibility that I might be busy?"

There was a pause. He shifted, trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder, and gently mixed a spot of magenta and blue paints together.

"But you aren't," she whimpered. He could almost see her, eyebrows knitted, pouting like a child.

"You've become needy," he sighed, gently placing his brush down into a coffee mug of water. "A needy, annoying little freshman."

"You promised," she said half-heartedly, with the tone of one who already knows he has lost the battle. "You said you would."

Sai stepped back to observe his work, furrowed his brow, and sighed. It still wasn't quite right. He had wanted to paint a tragic scene, a woman leaning against a wall, with dead eyes and a body as limp as a  
doll's, but so far he had failed to produce the proper emotion, or lack thereof, in the woman's eyes.

This exhibition was being hosted by one of the most gifted new artists in the art scene. Sai had only attended a handful of his exhibitions, but the works he'd seen left him trailing back to school disheartened.  
The guy was a year younger than him, for crying out loud, but already so much better. Sai specialized in people, generally portraits, busts, full figures- he couldn't even count how many contests he'd won with simple figure drawings that had taken him barely five minutes. But this man- Hyuuga Neji was his name, Sai had written it down on a small business card after the first exhibition- this man could do everything, in every style, with any medium. His versatility was unheard of- he had no weaknesses. Sai had never idolized anyone, didn't idolize anyone even now, but this guy was the closest he'd ever gotten to hero-worship. Sai desperately wanted to meet him. All the winning entries would win 20,000 yen in prize money, as well as be invited to a dinner the prodigy himself would be hosting.

He would never win with a piece like this, he thought, looking with disdain at the blue travesty before him.

"H-hello?" Hinata's voice sounded distantly; he quickly gathered his wits and whipped the phone back to his ear.

"Ah," he said, carefully picking the ruined canvas from it's easel and setting it carefully on the floor. "Sorry. I seem to have lost focus."

"Oh?" Sai? Lose focus? The gravity of his situation must've finally clicked, because she suddenly sounded rather flustered. "I-I'm sorry! I guess you really are busy, then. I'll go now, then."

He hn-ed in affirmation and pulled away, preparing to hang up.

And then the best idea came to mind.

Hinata was a woman, right? Plus, she generally had a cool-color scheme- pale skin, lilac colored eyes, hair so jet-black it had blue highlights. With a bit of sprucing and the right dress-!

He quickly brought the phone back to his ear. "Are you still there, Hinata-chan?"

The voice was muffled. "Y-yes."

"Look, I need a favor. Can you come to Aka, please?"

There was a pause, but when she spoke again, her voice was much clearer and infinitely more cheerful.

"Are you going to teach me, then?" she said excitedly.

"Better," he said, smirking, "I'm going to paint you."

**

After a few hours of shoveling ramen down their throats, Naruto and Kiba finally stacked their cups, gathered their spoons, forks, and kettle, and unceremoniously left the room. Sasuke didn't see them go. His eyes had stayed determinedly closed the entire time, and he tried to jumble his mind with Thrice. It worked well enough- listening to foreign music and trying to translate the lyrics always kept his mind occupied and therefore less focused on the more annoying situation at hand- and he didn't emerge until after the album ended and all fell quiet.

It was past eight, dark, and Hinata still wasn't back. He shook his head. It didn't matter, he told himself, she didn't belong here to begin with. A girl in a boy's school? She brought this on herself. Stupid girl with that stupid smile.

It took him a second to realize that he'd said it aloud. His words bounced off the walls.

It was so empty. Half of him wanted to find the idiots and bring them back to his room, just for the noise. Just to have someone to yell at, laugh with...

"No," he muttered aloud. "Its barely been three hours. You aren't sorry. And you don't miss her."

And he didn't. Not much. Not at all. Not even slightly.

Even though three hours had really been three days, and the last time he'd felt at ease with her was at least a week and a half before.

He rolled over. Hinata had left one of her sketchbooks on her bed. It was her smallest one; she had stacks of them stashed under her bed and piled on her nightstand, and this was the feeblest, rattiest, most pathetic of them all. He was no artist, but he'd think that would be the one to toss, so he felt absolutely no remorse in rolling out of his bed to snatch it up.

The first half of the sketchbook looked to be filled with assignments- there were skeletal hands that displayed every bone, ones that showed all of the muscles, and then finally whole hands complete with skin, all done with alarming detail. Next were legs, arms, torsos, then full figures. Past this he found experiments- he recognized Naruto in there, except she'd depicted him with such a calm look on his face and defined all of his best characteristics so well that Sasuke snorted (first the Sabaku, and now the dobe? Or was it the other way aroud?) There were sketches of Kurenai-sensei, the totally hot studio art instructor, playing with her equally adorable snot- nosed kid, followed by nude figure drawings. He smirked- she'd purposely left out details in the more private areas- one male figure was missing his crotch entirely. He could almost see her, the blush wild and red on her pale skin as a guy from some nearby art circle strolled in, dropped his robe, and struck a pose.

There were blank pages in between, as though she just flipped to random pages before sketching.

The second half was...more whimsical? She liked flowers- they were everywhere, beautifully drawn lilies and sakura trees. He turned the page, and then smirked. Ah. He remembered this one- she'd drawn it  
when they'd first met. She'd been sitting on a bench, half- disappearing in her sweater, eyes flickering heatedly from him to his paper. He'd mistaken her for a fangirl, had thrown the book down in disgust without giving the picture much more than glance.

It was actually good, he discovered. She'd somehow captured both his exhaustion and frustration at once- it showed in his posture, clenched fists, and the furrow in his brow. The sakura blossoms cast elegant shadows on his face. She'd skimped on the rest of his body; his legs and torso were a dark silhouette, only his hands baring the same excrutiating detail as his face. He stared at the picture for a long time, memorizing every feature. She was actually quite good. Girls had drawn him so many times that he'd lost count, didn't even bother feeling flattered anymore, but this ten minute sketch, whipped out secretly on a lonely park bench, somehow held some effect on him.

He choked it back and tossed the sketchbook back onto her bed. But it was still there, that lump in his throat. She was talented. Very talented. It would be selfish and thoughtless to ruin her, and if he exposed her, ruined she would be. She'd never step into an art school again- who would take her? And all of that talent would go to waste, sent away in the wind.

Dammit. Uchihas weren't supposed to have consciences. But for some reason, he seemed to be developing one.

**

"Erm, Sai-kun?" Hinata twiddled her thumbs, looking down at the blue and white dress that she'd somehow managed to squeeze into. The corset was constricting even though they'd not bothered to tighten it, and  
the skirts voluminous. The full sleeves started past her shoulders and stopped at the bend of her elbow, giving way to white, lacy gloves. It was a product of Anko's previous experiments, and fitted to a girl much smaller than Hinata. Sai had tousled her hair, and then sat her amongst his throw pillows against the wall.

"Blank face, Hinata," Sai said impatiently. "Think 'broken beyond repair.'"

She bit her lips and lolled her head back, making sure to angle herself so that her neck could be a focal point. Sai was going for vulnerability- as an artist, she'd do her best to help him achieve that. He hn-ed in pleasure and began working furiously, sketching her first with a simple number two pencil. From where she sat, she could see that his strokes were quick and precise. He didn't once use his eraser, even when she accidentally moved.

About twenty minutes later, his hand finally stilled. He looked up, lips tight, and then stepped back to study the canvas.

"W-what kind of paints are you using for this?" she asked shyly.

Sai pursed his lips. "I don't know." He beckoned her over. It took effort to lift herself off of the floor, the skirts were heavy and she sank into the pillows, but she obediently stumbled to his side.

The sketch was haunting, and, if she dare say it, beautiful. He didn't skimp on details- every last fold and tears had been drawn. The head was thrown back in defeat, the lips were just slightly opened, the eyes wide and empty. He'd left them empty.

"Its beautiful," she said, biting back the envy that threatened to surface.

"I know that," Sai said irritably, "But, now that I see it, I want to do it in oils."

Hinata furrowed her brow. She agreed silently- the oils would give it the three dimensional smoothness that acrylic never could, something this picture would do perfectly with.

"Then do it in oils."

He gripped his pencil tightly. "I can't. I don't have enough time. The deadline for the exhibition is coming up fast."

Hinata looked around his room at the hundreds of amazing paintings lining his wall, some of them in monochromatic blue. "Why don't you take one of these?" she asked, motioning around the room. Sai frowned.

"They aren't even remotely good enough."

Hinata sighed. "If you bring an oil in so soon, it'll damage really easily."

Sai rubbed his chin pensively. "Not necessarily," he grit his teeth. "If I'm careful...very careful, it'll be fine. I have two weeks- I will finish before then, but I'll be cutting it close." He ran his hand through his hair and Hinata thought that she'd never before seen him so stressed. Art was as much an integral part of his life as hers, probably more so. It was easy to forget that he was an important Root member when she was so used to seeing him mixing lattes at the Serpent.

"I-" she began, "I'll help you. W-whatever it takes, I'll try my best to help you!"

Sai glanced up, smirking, and ruffled Hinata's hair. "You're too cute, Hinata-chan." He glanced down at his watch. "It's getting a bit late. You should go back to Aoi."

Hinata leered over at him nervously and twiddled her thumbs, and Sai instantly knew that something was severely amiss. "Y-yes," she whispered, "I should. I will. Okay." She glanced at the bathroom door like it were an escape hatch. "Erm, I'm going to change now."

Had Sai not been so preoccupied with his piece, he would definitely have caught her facade. But he had picked up his pencil and was modifying his sketch now, and didn't appear to notice the fact that Hinata took especially long to change out of her clothes.

***

Hinata did not want to go back to Aoi. Sasuke was in Aoi, and going back would mean seeing him and giving him one more reason to hasten her expulsion.

So she did the next best thing and called Anko.

"Bebita," She'd never get used to Anko's concerned voice, though the woman had been using it quite often of late. "What's up? You know you have to come in tomorrow, right? I forgot how hard it is to run shop with only two of us."

"Sorry. I'm good now. I'm not canceling...I-I'll be there."

"Then what is it?"

Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, trying to gain courage from the darkness. "I...can I stay with you tonight?"

There was a long pause. Hinata bit her lip. Perhaps she needed to be brave- she'd faced her roommate as a guy, so why couldn't she do it as a girl? But then again, back then she hadn't known about his feelings for her, back then he hadn't kissed her, back then they'd been friends of a sort.

Then Anko laughed, breaking the tension quickly and efficiently. "So...are you trying to seduce me?"

She blushed a deep red and stammered nonsensically while Anko howled with laughter on the other end.

"I-I can't go back to my dorm," she muttered.

Anko snorted. "Sure you can. Didn't I tell you not to let that twerp get to you? It's your bed, go sleep on it."

She'd known Anko would be like this. Telling her to find confidence she didn't have_. I'm not you_, she wanted to tell her boss_, I can't do these kinds of things, it's too hard for me, it's..._

"I can hear you doubting yourself, Hinata-chan."

Hinata stiffened. The huge dress, bunched uselessly around her waist, seemed to tighten. "I-!"

Anko's voice turned serious. "Listen, Hinata-chan. I love you dearly, you're an adorable kid. But you can't stay with me."

Her throat tightened; she could feel her eyes fill with tears.

"This sounds cruel, but you've gotta nut up or shut up. You can't let this guy know how badly he's getting to you. Go to your room. Tell him you aren't going anywhere. Bring out your tough side- if you don't have one, make it up as you go. If he still has the gall to expose you, you walk out with your head held high and remember that he's a douchebag anyway. If not, well. Problem solved?"

She spoke like it was that simple. And for Anko, she wanted to scream, it would be. But for a girl like her who didn't even have the guts to make friends until recently, who would much rather pretend to be someone else than be herself, it would be impossible.

"B-but-!"

"I'm hanging up now, Hinata-chan."

The line went dead.

***  
She opened the door and met cold black eyes.

"Sai," Hinata murmured. He'd been listening, she knew he had, and no doubt agreed with Anko. Sai didn't understand either- he was built of the same stuff as Anko, even if he wasn't quite so exuberant about sticking it to the world.

"You shouldn't stay with me either," he said lowly. When a tear trailed down her cheek, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He sighed, and then held out an arm in invitation. "Come."

She dove into his chest, burying into his paint-covered apron. Some of it was still damp, but she could care less. Sai put his arms around her shoulders comfortingly, and Hinata thought that maybe Kami didn't hate her so much, after all, he'd left her a friend like this one.

"You've got yellow ochre on your face," he said when she pulled back. She punched him playfully on the shoulder, and then turned away.

"So. Y-you think I should just go back too?"

Sai nodded, thinking that he would never bear sharing his room with anyone, especially a needy, silly, female freshman.

"Then..." she inhaled sharply. "Then please wish me luck, Sai."

He grinned, bowed mockingly low, and ushered her to the door. Hinata was sweet, but there was serious work to do and he needed every last second of the next two weeks to do it.

***

At about ten o'clock, the doorknob toggled. Sasuke would have heard it had he not plugged his headphones again. Unfortunately for him, he was listening to his music at a dangerously high volume and had not the time to cover his tracks when Hinata tiptoed inside.

She kept her eyes determinedly to the ground at first, her heart thundering so loudly that she had to remind herself to breathe.

"Uchiha-san?" she said softly. He didn't hear her. Slowly, she looked up.

He was going through her sketchbook. Actually, it looked as though he'd gone through most of them- her messy pile had become an orderly stack, with, from what she could see, her oldest- and favorite!- hidden on the bottom and her brand spanking new Walmart brands on top. He was idly flipping through one right then, and it looked like he was actually touching them- getting his oily, smudged fingers all over her pages!

It had long been a truth of life that the only way to really make Hinata Hyuuga raging, honking mad was to touch her sketchbooks without permission. Without a thought, she pushed past him and snatched the sketchbook out of his prone hands, tossing it onto the stack.

"What," she hissed, "do you think you're doing?"

Sasuke blinked stupidly, and then tore out his headphones irritably. "What the hell did it look like I was doing?"

In her Judo and karate classes, Hinata had endured a few lessons on pressure points. She'd been rather good at it- after a few tries, she'd knocked out her entire class. She really hoped she wasn't too rusty.

She pressed skillfully into his right shoulder. His arm went limp, dropping against his side. Sasuke looked at it, eyes wide, and then whipped back at her.

"What did you do?" he said, staring aghast at his arm.

"What the hell do you think I did?" she said vindictively. "You do whatever you want. But you don't touch my sketchbooks. N-Never without my permission."

Her chest was heaving irregularly, her eyes were so bright they gleamed white. He smirked cruelly. So she was fighting, then? How amusing. Then again, seeing as he couldn't move his arm, he wondered whether he was being a tad complacent.

"Well, Hinata-chan," he growled threateningly, "I think you'd better behave yourself better if you intend to stay here."

The moment he said it, he knew it had been a bad idea. He'd expected her to cry again, to show him that deliciously tortured expression, but, not this. Her lips were curled back slightly, like a wolf growling- she looked like Kiba before a fight.

She shoved him, hard. He staggered back a step.

"Are you threatening me?"

He held his smirk in place, though inside he was quivering like a leaf. She growled. It was low and strange and made him shudder.

"Well, two can play at that game, Uchiha-san." She flexed her fingers devilishly. "I'm great with pressure points, as you probably noticed. How would you like for me to knock everyone of your points down, drop  
you into a bed, strip you down to your ratty little boxers, and sell the photographs to your fangirls?" When he froze in real terror, she smiled demurely, in direct contrast to her previous rage. "Ah. We've come to an impasse, then?" She motioned toward his arm. "You should be able to move that now. I'm going to take a shower."

And Sasuke, who hadn't budged an inch since the mention of fangirls, shuddered visibly as he watched Hinata Hyuuga, who had always been shy and gentle and never intimidating, stomp furiously into the bathroom and slam the door shut. A part of him wondered whether his adorable little roommate was actually a tad biipolar. The other wondered how to respond to this tragedy.

And an itty bitty tiny whiny part thought that this new Hinata was kinda hot.

Anko had been onto something her entire life. Being bold was fun, at least, way more fun than being pushed around like a ramen cart, and all of her practice at rehearsals made it much easier to pretend to be someone she wasn't. For the past four days Sasuke had been extra polite to her, even going so far as to offer to fold her laundry, and although she allowed herself to soften every now and then, she knew she had to keep the act up. She'd made her point, now it was time to let it sink in. What better way to do so than be badass for a little longer?

Hinata walked into the mess hall in tall, clunky combat boots that attracted far too much attention, low-riding cargo pants that she'd long ago rejected because she thought them too big, and a short sleeved, dangerously close-fitting shirt that just barely intimated at the curves she'd worked so hard to conceal. None of that timid "May I sit here, please" nonsense- today, she rightfully claimed her seat at the table, between Kiba and Shino. Kiba gave her a regarding look. She returned it and took a heinous bite out of her peach.

"Nice getup, Hinata. Though, for some reason, it makes you look like a grungey girl." he said, grinning stupidly.

Without skipping a beat, Hinata said, "That's cuz I am one."

She grinned in satisfaction as the whole table fell silent. Shino adjusted his glasses, as though to get a better look at her. She wished Sasuke had sat with them today- she'd have loved the look on his face.

Kiba gaped like a fish, eyes wide as saucers. "Hinata...?"

She smirked, working carefully to bring the corner of one lip up just slightly. "I'm screwing with you guys," she said, using her gentlest, softest, most feminine voice, "You insult me, you know. If Kiba had said that, you'd just have laughed."

Shikamaru was the first to smile. "It's only because you look like that," he said unabashedly. "Sometimes makes a guy wonder, you know?"

"O-oh." Had he just called her feminine? She could count on one hand the number of times a guy had pulled that one. The tough act was shattered there, if only for a second. She pursed her lips. "H-hey. Not cool."

"Well," Kiba sat back in his chair, picking at the rest of his food with his chopsticks, "Apparently that crazy lady at the Serpent-"

"-Anko," Hinata supplied, gritting her teeth.

"Yea," he said, waving her off, "Apparently she thinks so too. Apparently she's always dressing you up like a girl." When the entire table gave him a disbelieving look, he pounded a fist on the table. "I swear! Just a couple weeks ago, Takahashi tells me he's been to the Serpent and that there's this adorable girl there, a complete ten by the way he was going, goes by Hana. So, and get this- he calls up every damn Hana in the phonebook. But of course he doesn't find one, cuz one day he hears that one Root guy talking to her- and calls her Hinata!" He finished triumphantly. "And then I tell him, 'dude, you don't want to go there. That chic is a dude.'" He turned to Hinata, brow furrowed. "Isn't it humiliating, though? The fake boobs and makeup and skirts and shit?"

Hinata took a angry sip of water. "It pays for my education," she said harshly. "And, even though I'm forever cursed to look like this, I'm secure enough in my masculinity not to be bothered in it."

Kiba snapped his mouth shut audibly, thoroughly pwned.

At that moment, a loud set of footsteps caught their attention. There was a terrifying blur of black, white, and blue, and suddenly she was yanked out of her seat by the arm.

"S-Sai!" she gasped. He looked a hot mess, hair disheveled, apron literally doused in blue-violet paint. There were dark circles around his eyes, and he panted like a beast.

"You have to come see," he gasped.

She looked at him incredulously. "You can't possibly be done! It hasn't even been twelve hours!"

"No," he managed, "Not done yet. Close, though. Almost there."

"Sai!" she sighed. "You'll kill yourself this way!"

He shrugged. "Always wanted to die painting," he muttered, slowly pulling himself straight. "It seems rather fitting, don't you agree?" He swayed dangerously and she latched on to his arm to steady him. "Come."

"I'll be late for class," she shot back helplessly.

"Doesn't matter," he murmured, and after that began to drag her out of the hall. After shooting her table a rather rueful glance, she struggled to keep up- Sai was unusually fast when he was tired. They half-ran across a green field, traversed the quarter mile or so of pavement to Aka, rushed up the stairs and stormed into his room, all in record time.

The easel faced away from them, but Sai wasted no time in forcing her in front to survey his work.

She understood immediately why he'd wanted her to come so urgently.

He'd already finished most of the painting, a wonder considering the amount of paint layered onto the canvas. The walls had an odd texture, almost as though he'd turned the oils to sand; the night sky dyed them a deep blue.

But it was the woman who Hinata couldn't take her eyes off of. Sai had kept her body, her eyes, but there were subtle differences that made her someone else entirely, nearly unrecognizable. Her dress was much  
finer than the uncomfortable horror Hinata had squeezed into, with delicate silver embroidery that made Hinata wonder just how small the brushes Root members had access to.

Her face, as of yet, was unfinished. The eyes were wide and white, the skin not quite the satin even tone of her arms. She stared emptily into nowhere, shadows harsh and jagged across her features.

It was a breathtaking piece. Even unfinished, Hinata stared at it in awe.

"It's perfect," she whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. She'd thought his other work was insurmountable, but this was in an entirely different league.

"Is it?" he whispered. She turned to him. He looked like he was about to drop out of exhaustion. "I don't know. Everything came...easily...but her face. Her face still isn't right." He turned to her. "I had to see yours again. I have to finish."

"You have to sleep," she urged, pushing him toward his bed. He shook his head.

"If I sleep," he murmured. "I'll lose it. When I wake up, the magic will be gone."

"It won't," she insisted, but he'd already wormed away and was washing out his brushes.

"Sit," he ordered. She opened her mouth to protest, and then clamped it shut and watched as he began mixing his paints again, brush swirling in slow, delicate circles.

"Ten minutes," she said weakly.

"All I need," he responded, and then lapsed into silence.

***

A/N: Okay, okay. I've been a horrible child. No update for over a month? Eep. I know. I hate it when other authors do that to me. And I have no legit excuse, seeing as i'm done with school. (Hellz to the yeah!)


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So. **You may have noticed that I've totally gone MIA for like, two months, for which I'm EXTREMELY SORRY. But. An authority in my life decided to block ff at my house and change the password on my account because he/she/it thought that it was a total waste of time. Which, in a way, it is. I'm still rather pissed about this flagrant invasion of my privacy. I've had this chapter written for one and a half months, and I haven't even been able to reply your "Where the hell did you go" remarks. But now, I'm in college and there's no way for said figure to control what I do and/or when I do it, so…here I am. :D I'm in a hurry to post this, so please excuse any errors.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Naruto. :P

**Chapter Sixteen**

Ten minutes of frenzied painting passed. Watching Sai, Hinata understood somewhat how he could work for four days straight- when he was working he became like a machine with a singular purpose, the kind that didn't stop until it completely ran out of fuel. It was astounding to watch, though, admittedly a bit disturbing as well, watching his eyes flash like an automaton between the canvas and herself, his movements almost to fluid to be human. She was insanely jealous.

Finally, he stopped.

"Done," he gasped, and then promptly fainted.

Hinata squealed, rushing to him and grabbing him before he could hit the ground. He was surprisingly light. She prodded his cheek; when he still didn't respond, she hefted him up, keeping his weight on one shoulder and dragged him to bed.

"You've worked hard," she whispered, working to untie his apron. "I want to be as d-dedicated as you are someday."

Tossing the covers over him, she hung his apron on a nearby hook that seemed designed for that very purpose and headed to class.

* * *

When she arrived at the Serpent later that evening, she was more than surprised to find Sai already there. He looked up from behind the counter, nodded once and sipped a frappé from a crazy straw.

"You look..." she said, studying her friend quizzically, "Alive."

He didn't answer, just nodded again and latched on to the frappé like a baby to a bottle.

Anko giggled and moved to the door, flicking on the neon "open" sign.

"You've never seen Sai before an exhibition deadline?" She laughed even harder. "He ends up drinking his paycheck's worth in coffee."

Hinata frowned, concerned. "That can't be healthy," she murmured.

Anko shrugged, not particularly concerned with the nutritional needs of normal people, having grown up on a diet of coffee, dango, and raw meat. "You," she said, "You should worry more about yourself. You've been gone a heckuva long time, and my business is slowing."

"I-It is?" Hinata muttered, suddenly feeling horribly guilty.

"Yes," Anko huffed, "I haven't sold a dress in a week."

Hinata sighed in relief. Anko's dresses were obscenely expensive, and the more she liked the dress, the higher she set the price. When she did manage to sell a few, she did so reluctantly. She didn't bother to mention that Anko hardly ever sold a dress a month, let alone a week.

"I have four new ones for you," she said gleefully, turning on some of the dim ambience lights. "Get ready- the fabric store had an amazing sale on spandex and nylon."

It was the most revealing atrocity Hinata had ever worn in her life. It was embarrassing just to look at herself. She covered her eyes, and then turned to Anko.

"No," she muttered. "I can't."

"Like hell you can," her boss replied. "I'm paying you, remember? You'll wear it, or you'll lose your job."

Hinata was half-tempted to quit, but then remembered that, despite her drama, Anko actually paid rather well, that she needed the money, and that Sai and Anko left alone for too long would never get anything done.

She tugged at the skin-tight fabric- could it even be called that? It felt more like rubber to her- and wondered whether she could ask for a thicker bra or something.

"It's a catsuit," Anko explained wickedly. "It's supposed to be showy."

"This isn't showy!" Hinata fumed. The catsuit left nothing to the imagination, outlining every last embarrassing detail of her body. A long tail protruded right above her butt and curled into an enticing 'c.' "This is...whorish. At least give me a skirt or something! A vest?"

"A wig will do," Anko said, choosing a platinum blonde one that went down to her waist. "And a mask?" she chose a simple black one that would outline her eyes and keep her face in shadow.

"Everyone will see," Hinata tried, huddling onto a chair. "I won't go out like this. I refuse." She looked up at the wig. Two triangles of black fabric protruded from it's sides. "Oh my god, it has ears."

"Hyuuga," Anko snarled, "By jeeves, you will go out there and serve those people drinks wearing this outfit, and you will like it!"

And with superhuman strength that only Anko could possess, she grabbed Hinata by the tail, stuffed the wig onto her head (pinning it painfully in place with a few sinisterly sharp bobby pins), slapped the mask into her hands, and shoved her out the door in 3.5 seconds flat.

Hinata went out. She wore the outfit, served drinks, and generally acted like a little pussy (literally). The mask helped a bit; at least the non-regulars wouldn't recognize her- but covering her face and little else felt absurdly backwards to her. But, she found relief in that, on some fronts, she'd still managed to defy her rather terrifying boss-she certainly wasn't liking it.

Apparently, however, plenty of the customers were.

The front pocket of her apron was stuffed full with one dollar bills (where so many customers had gotten U.S currency she wasn't sure) and numbers from people whose faces she couldn't match to names. By the end of the night she was exhausted, and, tired of responding to catcalls, finally hid behind the counter and forced Sai out to take orders instead.

Which he did, all while drinking happily from his twenty-third frappé.

About half an hour after their switch, Sai returned to the counter, briefly interrupting his love affair with his coffee to give her a leer. Her heart sank instantly.

"You have a visitor," he said flatly, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Someone from school?" she asked suspiciously. She readjusted herself in her stool- tails were seriously inconvenient- and tried to look through the tables from her the counter.

"Maybe," Sai half-sang, and then proceeded to double his attentions on his crazy straw.

"Sai!" she whined, but it was too late; he was lost to the world. Groaning, Hinata leapt up from her seat. Might as well not keep them waiting, she supposed. Sai hadn't tried to hide her or anything, so it had to be someone who already knew...

Deidara waved at her from the table closest to the stage, grinning stupidly. Hinata blinked once, turned, and marched back to the counter.

"Hinata-chan!" he cried, so loudly that the Argentinian sitar player on stage shot him a vicious glare. When she didn't respond, he jumped up from his seat and raced after her, upsetting a few chairs in the process. He covered the last few yards in a single, monstrous stride, and reached for her wrist.

She whipped around to face him. "My name's Hana here," she hissed.

Deidara, who rarely listened to anything anyone said ever, nodded dumbly and stared blatantly at her chest. "Ooh. Didn't realize The Serpent doubled as a strip club. Would have come around a lot sooner if I'd known that."

Blushing, she crossed her arms over herself. "My outfits are usually not so...racy. My boss is just punishing me for missing too many days."

Deidara whistled appreciatively. "Kinky punishment."

Hinata was about to explain that Anko was a woman, but then remembered belatedly that Deidara would only find it more appealing and that, considering who Anko was, he was probably right. Instead, she put her hands on her hips. "Is there a specific reason you're here? Are you just going to stare?"

Deidara looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I did intend to talk to you about something, but staring's good too, you know..."

"I don't have time for this." She was tired, it was late, and her confounded tail kept knocking into her legs. Her fuse was short tonight, and Deidara always knew just how to light it.

"Hin-Hana-chan, don't be like that," he said, "What I have to say is quite important."

She turned back around, sneaking a not so discreet glance at the clock before doing so. Ten minutes till closing, Hinata supposed. If this takes any longer, I'll run, change, and sneak out the back door.

"Alright," she finally conceded. She remembered that horrible laugh he'd laughed at Michaelangelo's and shuddered. "Make it quick."

His expression changed instantly; it hardened, like the clay he molded. He led her to an empty table close to the counter, pulled out a chair for her, and sat on the other side, folding his hands. She gulped. This was the Deidara she had to take seriously, the Deidara who'd kissed her, the Deidara who could best Sasuke in a fight, and judo and karate experience aside, she was frightened of him. She wanted him to turn back into the amorous, grinning fool so that she could just club him and walk away.

"It's about Sasuke."

Her hands tightened to fists. "W-What about him?"

The sitar player was putting away his equipment, and his small audience clapped their hands politely.

"Do you remember what I said in Michaelangelo's?"

_'You're in love with Hinata!'_

She bit her lip and nodded slowly. _How could I forget?_

"You realize I wasn't kidding around, right?"

She let out a shuddering breath. "Can we not talk about this?"

"But it's important, Hinata." He gave her a grave look. "It isn't something you can ignore."

"W-w-why not?" she whispered. "I didn't ask him to like me. I didn't _want_ him to like me. I was happy the way things were."

"And if you don't say anything it'll go away?" She didn't respond. "Isn't that the cruelest thing you can do to a guy?"

"Why are you trying to help him?" she said, and then added more softly. "I thought...I thought you liked me, too."

He grinned. "I do."

She looked down at her lap, grateful for once for the long blonde hair that shadowed her face.

"But half of the people you know do too, to differing degrees. And why wouldn't they? You're cute, you exude vulnerability and then contradict it by beating us up, and internally they probably are aware that you're a girl, but the revelation hasn't struck their brains yet."

"Besides." He looked up at her earnestly. "I mess with a lot of girls, Hinata. You're probably just another one of them."

She didn't really understand why, but that comment stung. To be told that she was only one of many? He must have noticed. "That's not to say that I don't consider you a friend." A sliver of his usual self snuck into his smile. "I mean, if you ever wanted to have a bit of fun, I'd be all for it. It isn't the same way he feels, though.

"Sasuke doesn't like girls, if you haven't noticed. But he doesn't like boys much either. But, haven't you noticed that even when he thought you were a guy, he still fell for you? And though he knows you're a girl now, he still feels the same?"

She shook her head. "That isn't true." He'd kissed her so roughly. It hadn't been a sign of affection. "He hates me now."

"He doesn't."

"How would you know? You don't live with him."

Deidara sighed. "No. But I am in the Drama department. And I have seen the horrible mess Sasuke's been making of Puck's lines lately. And I have seen the picture he's been carrying in his binder. It looks uncannily like you two, don't you think?"

"He took my picture!" she said indignantly, and then blushed. "Though, I guess it was his to begin with."

"That's beside the point, I think," Deidara said. "What I mean to say is that he's on edge, and angry with you, and really, just a ticking time bomb. You say nothing, and it's only a matter of time before he's had enough of looking at your face and turns you in."

She blanched. "He wouldn't. He'll threaten it, but he wouldn't, he's just full of hot air."

"For now," Deidara said, with a wicked smile. Hinata leaned back in her chair.

"S-so, what do you propose I do? Go out with him just so he'll keep his mouth shut? Isn't that unfair to me?"

"I'm not saying you should accept him. In fact," he continued, "I'd rather you didn't. Respond to him. Set your boundaries and his. Be...more straightforward."

"You want me to... talk to him about this?" She gulped. A few months ago, she couldn't even muster the courage to ask the kid next to her in class to borrow a pencil. And now, he was telling her to have a nice sitdown chat about feelings with the most beautiful, intimidating guy on their side of the continent?

Deidara nodded enthusiastically. In that instant, his darker persona melted away and his eyes became playful again. "Yep, Hana-chan. I think you got it."

She stood up. "You're insane."

He smirked and bowed lowly. "Maaaaybe." The restaurant had all but cleared out; Deidara looked down at his watch. "Ah. Time for me to leave. I've got a midterm tomorrow morning."

She nodded and turned for the counter. "Okay. Good night, then."

"Ah, one more thing, Hana-chan."

"What?"

She was momentarily blinded by a sudden bright flash. When she'd blinked her sight back into focus, Deidara was stuffing his cameraphone back into his pocket.

"You-!" she said as her brain processed what he'd just pulled.

"Kay, thanks, bye!" Deidara positively squealed, and then, tittering wickedly, fled out of the Serpent so quickly that she swore he broke the sound barrier.

She made it back to her room a little after midnight. When she opened the door, a lamp was still on, casting a gentle amber glow in their blue room.

Sasuke was in bed, but rolled over upon hearing her enter. His hair was tousled and still a bit damp from his shower, but his eyes were bright and alert. She looked up as she shuffled past.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he said, then sat up slowly. "What time is it?"

"12:15," she said sheepishly. That catsuit had been hell to get out of, everything had stuck, and she hadn't been able to think straight after Deidara came and muddled up her thoughts again.

They were both quiet for a moment. Hinata chewed on her thumbnail and silently berated herself for bringing back the habit.

"Did you get here by yourself?" he asked.

She started, a bit alarmed, and he quickly whipped away. "E-erm, no. Sai was with me." Granted, Sai had been focusing entirely on his coffee, trying to make his thirtieth last all the way back to Aka. (His stomach is either bottomless, or his metabolism works at the speed of light, she'd thought, as she dragged him across the courtyard.)

"Good," Sasuke said, and then lay back down again.

She looked down at her feet. "I can take care of myself, you know," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

He heard. "I'm not saying you can't."

"Oh." She dropped her bag on her bed. "Okay. Good."

"You have experience in self-defense."

"Yeah," she said, blinking rapidly. "I do."

"It's just not a good idea for a girl to be roaming the city at night by herself, you know."

Hinata froze and looked at him. He'd already nestled himself back under his covers, and his eyes were closed. It was almost like he was sleep-talking, except that every syllable sounded clear and alert.

"Yes," she said. "I suppose you're right." Was he...worried about her? "Thank you."

"Hn."

"For your concern, I mean."

"Go to sleep, Hinata."

She gave him a last questioning look, and then clicked off the lamp. "Good night."

Two weeks passed, and Hinata figured there was no need to follow through with Deidara's (stupid) advice. Sasuke was being oddly...nice. No more empty threats, no random acts of spite. He had even become less irritable, greeting her with good mornings and good nights and how's your days. It was confusing at first- she wondered wildly for a while whether she'd done something to set him off- but later it became pleasant. She wasn't afraid to ask him for help on her calculus homework or to sit with him at breakfast or have conversations with him alone- things she hadn't been aware she was scared of doing until she tried them out.

Though, it appeared, everybody else was.

"Erm, Sasuke?" Hinata asked after Sasuke sent a death-glare to a boy from class who'd waved at her. He'd effectively succeeded in clearing an area at least ten meters wide around their table, a deadland that no one seemed willing to cross. Hinata winced as another guy tripped over a chair in his haste to stay out of the perimeter. "Erm, aren't you scaring them?"

Sasuke bared his teeth and growled; the befallen student jumped to his feet and scampered away. Then he turned to Hinata and offered her something resembling a smile. "Yes."

She fumbled with her spoon and glanced longingly at her old table. She caught Kiba looking too and grinned, but her friend quickly darted back to his food and began shoveling it down faster than before. "Why?"

Without skipping a beat, Sasuke replied, "Because. I'm a guy, too. I've seen the way they look at you like a hunk of meat." His eyes flickered up to hers. "It's not safe, having one girl in a whole pack of guys like this."

She gaped. _'This is ridiculous.'_ Besides, unless her perception of him was completely off, Sasuke was too busy running away from girls to try to imagine them as meat. "Sasuke- they think I'm a guy, remember?"

Sasuke refused to consider her logic. "But you don't look like a guy. You look nothing like a guy. I mean, you've got pretty big-"

"You fell for it," Hinata pointed out. Sasuke looked like he was going to respond, but then chose to take a bite of his apple instead. She crossed her arms smugly.

"Don't do that," he said, swallowing. "It pushes your boobs out."

Scandalized, she hastily put her arms to her sides. "Can we please steer the conversation away from my chest?" she said through grit teeth. Sasuke looked affronted.

"I'm just watching your back. I mean, what if somebody saw...?"

Hinata stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Sasuke stood too. "I'm coming with you."

_What is he, my Rotweiler?_

"No," Hinata said slowly, "You're going to sit here, eat your breakfast, and try and recover the brain cells you've fried."

"My brain cells are perfectly fine," Sasuke said, miffed. "They definitely do math better than yours."

She could feel her ears get hot. She whipped around, exasperated, and marched out of the cafeteria, cringing as the paths cleared like the Red Sea for her to pass.

Sometime that afternoon, Hinata's phone rang. It was on a pay-as-you-go plan, and after her whining sessions to Sai and Anko she'd really been stacking up on minutes, but then the caller ID flashed and she jolted and flipped if open so quickly it bent too far back on its hinges.

"G-Gaara?" she stammered, pressing the phone to her ear. Her heart jumped childishly and she berated it- they'd both agreed to keep things platonic.

"Hello, Hinata." She smiled brightly. It was him- that voice was unmistakable. "Do you have time today? I wanted to give you something."

A gift, maybe? A thank you for that horrid date a few weeks ago? "E-erm, yes, I'm just in my dorm." Alone, she appended silently. Sasuke's at rehearsals, like I should be, but I'm too chickenshit to show my face in there when I haven't been in so long. She swallowed down the pang of guilt and continued, "Would you prefer to drop it off? The Dean can give us any packages..."

"...Actually," Gaara said after a thoughtful pause, "I was planning on giving it to you in person. But I see that you might not particularly care for my presence in-"

"No, no!" she said too quickly. "Where do you want to meet?"

"About that." Wait, was Gaara sounding...sheepish? "I'm...already at your school."

She nearly dropped the phone. "W-what?" Then, "Where are you?"

There was a moment's silence as Gaara no doubt tried to find an answer, followed by a slow, "The courtyard? I think."

She slipped on her sandals and was out the door before he could finish his sentence. "Do you see a statue of a man covered in paint splatters?"

"Yes, I'm right in front of him."

"Excellent." She rushed down the stairs, her hands sliding along the railing to keep her from slipping. "Wait right there."

The courtyard was a shared field between all five dorms, easily identifiable, and probably a quarter of a mile long. The statue was in the center. She fell into a dead sprint, speeding past the benches and the naked sakura trees. Ah. She could see him already. He was wearing his glasses again, perched studiously at the bridge of his nose, but otherwise he looked more casual than she was used to seeing him- jeans and a black t-shirt. There was a bundle tucked under his arm.

"G-Gaara!" she choked, and then forced herself to a screeching halt before she could plow into him. "I'm sorry for the wait."

He smiled and glanced at his watch. "I've only been here about one minute," he said, amused. His eyes softened. "It's good to see you again." They roved over her slowly. "Though in a slightly more boyish ensemble."

She blushed wildly. "I-It's this way to my dorm. E-erm, unless you want to give it to me here?"

His mouth quirked. "I'd prefer to go to your room. If that's fine with you. I thought it would be nice to talk a little, rather than unceremoniously throw this at you."

She instantly felt stupid. "Just...follow me."

He nodded once, and they marched back upstairs together in silence, Hinata preceeding him by a few meters. _'I'm bringing a guy into my room. I, Hinata Hyuuga, am bringing a guy into my room, where we will be alone. I, Hinata Hyuuga, am bringing a very attractive guy who has a gift for me into my room alone and isn't there some honor code thing against this-?'_

She unlocked her door. "Here."

Gaara stepped inside and whistled. "It's very blue."

She closed the door and put in the deadbolt, chuckling weakly. Her shoulders shook. "We are the Aoi dorm, after all." _'Ah, he's sitting on my bed now...is there a rule against that too?'  
_  
"Are you okay, Hinata?" he leaned forward, inspecting her. "You look a bit pale."

"Just got over a cold," she lied automatically. He accepted it easily enough; it was a rational reason, after all, but lying to him felt so wrong...

Gaara reached into his pocket and produced an envelope, splashed beautifully in color with a silver seal on the back.

"Fancy," she whispered, taking it from his outstretched hand. She carefully pried it open-it'd be a pity to destroy something that pretty-and pulled out a thick card.

"You are cordially invited to the Expressions Exhibition of the Modern Arts. Hosted by...Hyuuga Neji." She stared at it for a moment. "That name rings a bell."

"Well," Gaara offered, "Other than the fact that you two seem to share a surname, he is a rising figure in the art world. His latest piece, 'Dreams Rising,' recently sold for over half a million yen."

Half a million? "I remember! That's the contest Sai was entering!" She furrowed a brow. "I thought only the winners were invited? Are you secretly an artist, too?"

He smiled (Why was she still getting butterflies when he did that?) and shook his head. "Sadly, no. But a good friend of mine is. And she's allowed to bring a date and two additional guests."

Her eyes widened. "O-oh."

"I will be accompanying Matsuri," he said, and the moment those dreaded words dropped she knew she'd lost something by the sudden clenching in her chest. "Since you too are an artist, I assumed that this would be a great opportunity for you to interact with some big names and good contacts for when you finish school."

She forced a smile onto her face. Spoken like a true politician, she thought. Point out all the reasons why this will be good for me. I'll still have to watch you dangle another girl off your arm. "Thanks, Gaara-kun. That's so thoughtful."

"The second invitation is for your date." He handed her another envelope. "I assume you will bring Uchiha-san?"

She instantly blanched. Bring Sasuke? Into a social situation-into a crowd of artists? They'd either tear him apart in an attempt to force him to pose for impromptu figure drawing sessions or he'd bark at them so vehemently that nobody would want to come near her. Both situations sounded awful.

"Is it alright if I...come by myself?" she said. Or maybe it's okay, I can take Sai; he'd enjoy it.

"Having a date is not imperative," Gaara said coolly. "Simply customary."

His tone of voice suggested otherwise. "Okay. I'll find someone."

They were quiet for a moment. Hinata gently placed both envelopes on her nightstand and dropped back to her knees on the floor. Gaara watched her, his mouth suddenly drawn tight.

"Also," he said, rustling the plastic wrap of the bundle, "This is yours." he unfolded it slowly, neatly ripping through the plastic.

"A dress," Hinata said dumbly. Not just any dress. An LBD. Simple, black, a halter neck that would scoop just a centimeter past her cleavage. She gaped at it stupidly and nearly fainted when the end of the package unrolled and a pair of dangling earrings jingled against the floor. "Wow."

"I assumed that, given your situation, you didn't have any dresses," he explained kindly. "And red was a bit too flashy for an event like this..."

She didn't think about it, just stepped in and closed the distance between them. "Thank you. You're too nice to me."

"Because you're a special person," he offered, squeezing her once, hard, before drawing back. His eyes were unreadable. "I hope it fits. I asked your coworker for your dress size."

She'd been wondering why Sai'd been grinning like an idiot all day yesterday. "It'll fit. Sai knows my measurements better than anyone el-." She froze, mortified. "Because, um, he always hears them from Anko!"

"Well, then." He hopped to the balls of his feet. She peeked up and noticed he was blushing, albeit lightly, and that their faces were probably matching. "I'll take my leave."

"Yeah," Hinata said, "Before Sasuke comes back." Her dark personal bodyguard would definitely try to tear Gaara into adorable little shreds if he caught him here.

"Ah," he said, unlocking the door. "In that case, should I run?"

They laughed. She walked with him back to the courtyard, gave him directions to the parking lot, and bade him good-bye. Then, she rushed back to her room, knocking over a few students and a statuette of the Aoi Rabbit mascot, and slammed the door shut.

She lifted the dress by its straps. She loved normal dresses, dresses not covered in netting or glitter or recyclable materials, and this was as classy-normal as a dress could get. Daring, most likely, but nothing that she couldn't handle. Squealing, she ducked into the bathroom and slipped it on.

It went on easily enough and fit like a glove. The skirt stopped at her knees. She clipped the halter in place, and then shook out her hair, fluffing it out with her fingers. Suddenly, she missed her long hair- she would have been able to curl it into spirals, let it fall gracefully over her shoulders. As it was, she'd either have to borrow Sasuke's gel and put it in pixie spikes, or comb it neatly to the side and clip it.

She spun back into the room to fetch her earrings and admired her back in the mirror, just as keys began to jingle in the lock.

It's just one of those days, Sasuke thought, as he trudged back to Aoi. He'd gone to rehearsals, as usual, and made such a mess out of Puck's lines that even Juugo didn't have anything comforting to say. Earlier this week, the mistakes were small, a missed word here or there, a lapse in his accent. The others had shrugged it off, some of them gleeful to find that Sasuke Uchiha could be imperfect if he tried hard enough. But now it was spreading like cancer, rendering breaks in his speech, causing him to stammer and sputter like a newbie. Today, he even forgot an entire monologue, one that he'd had memorized for weeks, and stared dumbly into the empty audience and tried to ignore the shame that constricted his chest.

He'd never experienced anything like this before. For as long as he could speak, he could act. It had started out as a byproduct of games he'd played with his aniki, reenacting stories like "The Prince & the Pauper" and "Peach Boy" with flourish and ease that seemed almost unnatural for a child his age. He'd been cute, too. Had his parents (and grandparents, and extended family, and most unfortunately, his brother as well) not been so stubbornly left-brained, he could have broken into the world as a child star. Instead he stayed in his room and worked out arithmetic meant for grades far above his own and satisfied his craving for the spotlight through school plays and charity events. He'd thrived on them. It was a fact of life that Sasuke Uchiha could act, just as undeniable as 2+2=4 (or fish, as some naysayers might say.) It didn't make sense for him to suck.

"Maybe you just need to rest," Juugo said, concerned, after today's debacle. "You must be tired or something."

He'd been sleeping at least nine hours every night.

"Yeah. Maybe. Thanks."

And on top of that...

"Where's Hinata been, anyhow?"

Spoken by Deidara, that blond pest who made Naruto look intelligent. Sasuke's scowl had darkened, but he hadn't snapped like usual, hadn't progressed into his typical rant against actors who went AWOL.

Instead, "She's an artist. This isn't her first priority. If she decides she can't make it because it conflicts with something she has to take care of, so be it."

The others had stared; openly, brazenly gaped as though he'd suddenly sprouted horns or something. He'd glared at them all and left, sick of surprising them and himself.

He stuck the key into the door, pushing it open with one shoulder.

And then he looked up.

Hinata faced the large closet door mirror. Her baggy jeans were gone, as was her signature polo, and, he realized with great alarm, as were her bindings. And that dress...

"W-What are you...wearing?"

Hinata looked down at herself, and then back up at Sasuke, not seeming even remotely embarrassed at being caught. "Does it look...bad?"

He flapped his gums uselessly for a minute. Yes, he knew she was a girl, but it was still ridiculously weird when he saw her as one, and after all...

She tilted her head to one side, smile fading.

"It looks good. You look good," he finally managed, and then quickly turned away. "But you shouldn't be wearing that. You know how the dobe likes to burst in."

"But the door's locked," she pointed out softly. She was sitting on the bed now, legs crossed, and he couldn't peel his eyes away this time. What was she going to do in the summer? Wear full-length jeans all of the time? Those legs were clearly female. What if someone saw them...?

"Why do need that, anyway?"

Her eyes flitted away, for a second she looked uncomfortable. "Art Exhibition," she explained curtly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Not with the school, I'm assuming?" She blushed.

"No," she whispered, "It isn't." Her eyes drifted traitorously to the nightstand, where the very conspicuous and colorful envelope sat, and then back down to her bare feet. He followed her gaze, and then dropped his bag, crossed over to her bed, and picked it up. She quickly snatched it away.

"T-that isn't yours," she muttered crossly.

"Okay," Sasuke conceded. She looked up, surprised, only to realize in horror that he held the second invitation delicately between two fingers. "But apparently, this one is."

"It's for my...date!" she half-squealed. That date would definitely never ever be him. Ever. She hoped he got that message.

"It's addressed to me," he said, his smirk dropping instantly. He turned the envelope over, holding it out just close enough for her to be able to read the neat print. Her eyes widened; her lips quivered.

What was Gaara doing? How could he make such an assumption? She imagined Sasuke tied down to a chair and wearing nothing but a fig leaf, surrounded by overenthusiastic artists and flinched.

"Well," she said, "You aren't an artist. And I don't want you getting attacked." She noted triumphantly the fear that flashed across his face. "I'm going to ask Sai."

Sasuke's lip quirked. "Fine. Go ask Sai then."

"I will."

"Yeah," he tossed the envelope back at her. "But bear in mind, when you're crawling back to me at the last minute, I won't make it easy for you."

"Don't worry," Hinata said, despite the sinking feeling that told her that Sasuke knew something she didn't. "Sai wouldn't say no."

"Sorry, Hana-chan," Sai drawled. "I'm going too, didn't I tell you? I'm already taken."

Hinata gaped stupidly for what easily could have been ten minutes while Sai grinned happily back. "B-b-by who?"

He reached out and grabbed Anko, who had been passing by to turn on the open light, around the waist. She crashed into him with an 'oomph' and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "What the hell, Smiley?"

Hinata stared at them and felt an outpouring of dread. Anko? At a quiet art exhibition? Anko acting civilized? She'd come wearing something covered in ostrich feathers. She loved her boss dearly, but this could be important, and she didn't need a potential disaster on her hands.

Two disasters, she reminded herself, remembering the slightly sadistic grin on Sasuke's face.

"On your knees," Sasuke commanded smugly, arms crossed. Hinata's lip quivered, but she did as she was told.

"Forehead to the ground, Hinata," he said. His voice was deceptively silkly, almost seductive. Scowling, she bowed low. "Okay."

He sat down at his desk chair as though it were a throne and threw back his hair. "Now, repeat after me."

She gulped.

He cleared his throat, and she could almost see that evil look of satisfaction on his face. "Sasuke Uchiha is the most devilishly handsome, intelligent, and charming man on the planet..."

She held back a snort, her voice wavering.

"...and it would be an unimaginable honor for him to accompany me to this function."

She sighed out the last line and lifted her head. 'That wasn't too bad...'

But then he gently pushed her down with his foot on her back and she knew this was far from over.

"Wait," he said, giving her an angelic smile, "I still haven't said yes."

**A/N: **I have the next chapters half-written. Be nice and review and you'll get them quick. :D


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Yes, I did make another reference to k-drama. Seriously, though. Look up Daniel Henney. He's the reason that Koreans and Brits need to start making more kids. Halfie-guys are hot. :D Also, Kim Jae Wook-of-the-amazing-bone-structure. Just watched this k-movie called _Antique Bakery, _where he plays a gay chef. I love him so much that every time he smiles I'm like, "Oh no, the beautiful Gay of Demonic Charm is making me melt" (which, literally, is what he calls himself. "Gay of Demonic Charm." LOLOLOLOLOL.)

**Disclaimer** : Naruto is not mine. Yeesh.

**Chapter Seventeen  
**  
They were late.

It was already six, and she'd just now wriggled into her dress. Anko had lent her a pair of simple black pumps, a huge trenchcoat, and a tube of lip gloss, but those were sitting in her room by her bed, and Sasuke was currently changing in there. She'd seen him nearly naked before, but there was something too personal about changing clothes—at least there was now that he knew she was a girl.

Gaara was bringing the limo around in half an hour, and they had to walk, undiscovered, to the front of the school. She'd keep her shoes and earrings in a bag. But what if someone commented on the fact that she wasn't wearing any pants underneath? What if she ran into Kiba or Naruto- both of whom, she'd long acknowledged, had very little respect for personal space- and they noticed her thin but apparent makeup? What if their entire plan fell to pieces because she did something stupid, like trip on the sidewalk and expose her dress underneath?

Her worries were interrupted by a series of sharp knocks on the door. "I'm done, Hinata."

She sat up from the toilet, smoothing out her dress, fluffing out her slightly spiky hair, and opened the door. And gasped.

She remembered that when she'd first laid eyes on Sasuke, she'd thought she'd seen the pinnacle of human beauty. She'd drawn him constantly, usually while he wasn't looking, and occasionally wondered whether he was actually real- no one could be that good-looking naturally, not even Korean drama stars. But as time passed, she learned to ignore it, to put up the blinders to his Demonic Charm. His looks had been nearly completely overshadowed by his (often acerbic) personality, and it was only at certain moments, moments like this one, that she remembered that her roommate was divine.

"Hello," Sasuke said, amused, as he watched her look him up and down.

Guys generally look better in suits. She'd thought Sasuke had already peaked- apparently not.

"You're going to be _killed_," Hinata choked.

He scowled. "How about a 'you look good, Sasuke' or something?"

"B-But... You already know that," she muttered stubbornly. "I'm actually really tempted to attack you," she admitted, a little breathless.

He blushed. Blushed, then turned away to scratch his head. "If it means anything," he mumbled, so softly that she nearly missed it, "So am I."

It was her turn to turn a deep cherry red, and they both stood silently at the bathroom door, looking anywhere but at each other. Finally, Sasuke walked into the room and grabbed both of their invitations.

"Let's go," he said. His voice was gruff.

"Okay," she said, sliding on the trenchcoat and a pair of sneakers. She grabbed the bag and headed outside with him, grateful for the setting sun and the apparent obliviousness of the students playing Ultimate Frisbee out on the courtyard. The door locked behind them with finality.

They got to the Admissions Office just as the limo pulled up. A gentleman in a completely black suit opened the door for them, and they slid inside.

"Good evening," Gaara said. He wore a deep green shirt and had foregone a tie. His jacket was draped over his arm. Hinata carefully dragged her eyes away and focused instead on removing her trenchcoat as Sasuke replied cordially for her.

Sitting next to him was the girl, that Matsuri he'd mentioned. She was leggy and impossibly pretty, she noted, and when she smiled graciously at her Hinata wanted to leave. Instead, she pressed her earrings in and tossed her sneakers into the bag, replacing them with her heels.

"Hello, I'm Matsuri," she said. Even her voice was smooth and mature.

"Hinata," Hinata muttered forcibly, shaking the hand offered to her.

"It's a pleasure," the girl said, and then her eyes slid over to Sasuke. She was controlled, but Hinata could see the hunger behind her gaze.

"And you are?" she said silkily. Sasuke glared brazenly at her, and Hinata wasn't sure whether to hug him or elbow him in the ribs.

"Uchiha Sasuke," he said stiffly. He shook her hand only once, as though he'd rather not touch her, and against her better judgment Hinata felt a twinge of triumph.

"By the way, Hinata," Matsuri said smoothly, her eyes soft and her smile a bit sheepish, "Sorry you had to walk all the way here from TAGS. You're smart to bring those sneakers—that distance in heels would be a nightmare."

Inside, Hinata groaned at Gaara's apparent lack of backstory, but kept her face disciplined. "It wasn't a problem, Matsuri," she insisted, "I make the walk often."

The roof of the limo was lined in neon lights, the colors shifting above them. She tried to focus on them as they moved. She could feel Gaara's eyes on her- only he had a gaze like that, so unabashedly and openly penetrating- and she ignored them. Matsuri was nice- she could gather that from the inane conversation she was having with Gaara. She was polite, well-bred, and carried the air of one who was born into privilege and constantly reminded to appreciate it. They looked good together.

Hinata looked back down again and caught Sasuke's eyes. He didn't look away, just furrowed his brow as though trying to understand her, to see something that he'd somehow missed.

_'This is the guy who likes me,'_ Hinata thought, smiling weakly at him, _'Who, despite everything, still does. There are a million girls who would die to be me.'_ She sighed. Was staring whimsically at another man while he was sitting right there being _fair _to him? If she was wildly jealous of Matsuri, he'd feel the same way toward Gaara, right? Hadn't she always been the empathetic one?

As though on cue, his hand brushed the top of hers and then squeezed. It was strangely comforting. She smiled a little wider, and Sasuke whipped away, looking completely indifferent, though his hand held hers for the rest of the trip.

* * *

"Wow," Matsuri gasped when they arrived. And wow was right. The path leading to the building was lined with flowers, and the walls were like one gigantic painting of the sky- here was dawn, there day, there dusk, there night. It was beautiful.

A butler led them through the entrance and into a large, white room. Another announced their names from a list, and as she walked in, arm and arm with Sasuke, she understood why Gaara had been so adamant about her having a date. A few of the other guess smiled politely as they passed. One had a thin glass of champagne balanced between two fingers. They surveyed the paintings along the walls with cool grace.

"This is a big deal," Sasuke whispered, impressed. She shuddered as his breath tickled her ear.

"Yes," she said, spotting a painting in the corner of the room. She looked up at him beseechingly. He shrugged, and she led him to it.

"This..." Sasuke muttered. It was Sai's painting. The woman, her head thrown back in some unidentifiable pain, only vaguely resembled Hinata now. Her eyes were sadder, darker, her face sharper. But he could still see it. "This looks like you."

Before she could respond, someone wound an arm around her waist, wedging her uncomfortably between two bodies. Sasuke's hold on her arm tightened.

"Because she modeled for me," Sai said simply. He gave Sasuke a wide smile, and then looked back to the painting. "Ah, I wish I'd changed the lighting there...oh well."

Hinata stared at the painting closely, and finding nothing even remotely at fault with it, stuck her tongue out at him. He tsk-ed and flicked her nose with a finger. "Be professional." His eyes flickered to Sasuke, who was glaring at him murderously, and he slowly removed his arm.

"Where's Anko?" Hinata said, and Sasuke's grip on her suddenly became a vice. She winced and batted his arm. "Ow, Sasuke!"

"Don't call that woman here," Sasuke hissed warningly. That look- it was the closest thing to terror she'd ever seen on him. He looked like a cat before a bath, shifty-eyed and mistrusting. She couldn't help but smile.  
"It's okay. She doesn't have her tools with her," Hinata tried, and then turned to Sai. "She doesn't, right?"

"No," Sai said, sounding disappointed. "She decided to leave them behind."

"You mean, she considered bringing them?" Hinata suddenly pictured Anko lugging a gigantic crate of makeup, wearing a minidress made entirely (and sparsely) of netting and bottle caps, marching through the exhibition and floor-tackling all the mildly good-looking people with a tube of lipstick.

"Yes," Sai shook his head. "It's a great misfortune."

Sasuke and Hinata exchanged glances which both seemed to convey their concerns about the smiling artist's mental state, and then respectfully excused themselves.

"W-We're going to look at the other pieces, Sai," Hinata said, patting Sasuke's hand gently, which was clutching onto her arm painfully tightly.

"Yes, we'll be socializing," Sasuke added, tugging her forward, "Please don't follow us. Actually, we'd prefer if we didn't see you again tonight."

Sai smiled as though his requests had been completely logical and waved them away. "Okay. You have fun. I'll see you tomorrow, Hinata-chan."

Stifling giggles, Hinata let an all-too nervous Sasuke half-drag, half-guide her into a separate wing. The moment they were away, he reassembled himself into a stoic, dashing date, pulling himself to his tallest height and adjusting his tie.

"Your friends are weird," he said casually.

"So are yours," she countered. "Hozuki-senpai has fangs."

He smirked. "Touche." He turned to the next wall of paintings and shrugged. "Are we looking, or what?"

They must be early, Hinata figured, because as they walked around, looking at the paintings, they rarely ran into other couples. In the distance, she could dimly hear the butler announcing arrivals, but no matter how many names he mentioned in his droll monotone, the number of people never grew. She rather liked it this way- she'd been so terrified of Sasuke getting torn away, and for naught.

"The paintings here are so...peaceful," Sasuke muttered. He looked mesmerized, as though all of the colors against the stark white walls were gateways into new worlds. Hinata nodded- the colors here were muted and gentle, the scenes largely pastoral. They were painted with expertise, but she had a feeling that that wasn't the only reason why they were chosen- too many artists these days were technical experts. It was the feeling they gave off. Was Sasuke more affected because he didn't encounter art as frequently? He'd been duly affected by her meager works- these ones must be wondrous to him.

They went around that wing twice, mostly in silence, and for a while Hinata almost forgot about Gaara and Matsuri...

Almost.

"How're you liking it?" Matsuri said happily. They had crossed into another wing and run into them. She and Gaara's arms were no longer linked- now they were holding hands, and somehow the gesture seemed a little more intimate. Hinata tried in vain to return Gaara's smile.

"It's g-great so far," she said, forcing herself to lift her head and be dignified. _'You aren't being fair to Sasuke,'_ she reminded herself. _'He's being a model date and you're writing him off for Gaara, just like those stupid girls in the dramas you watch. Focus. Be happy for him.'_ It was so much easier said than done.

"And you, Uchiha-san?" Matsuri smiled pleasantly, all of the previous enchantment gone from her eyes.

Sasuke shrugged and looked away. "It's nice," he said, somehow seeming icy. Matsuri's smile flickered.

"We'll see you at the dinner," Gaara said. He squeezed Matsuri's hand. "Shall we?"

She nodded, and together they glided into the next room, looking all too perfect.

"She's pretty," Hinata remarked in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner as they walked into a collection of brilliant and jarring abstract works. Sasuke looked down at her.

"I don't like her," he said bluntly.

"Why?" Matsuri was so gentle, not even reacting to Sasuke's undeserved disdain.

Sasuke shrugged. "I don't know. She strikes me as the Sakura type."

Hinata gasped. "But Sakura is so nice!"

Sasuke chuckled. "Exactly. To you. To Naruto she's a complete bitch, and she expects me to somehow be attracted to her when I see the way she throws him around, given all that he does to impress her."

Hinata looked to the next painting, an acrylic work featuring a blue man with an enormous yellow grin, his teeth spaced out squares. "I...never noticed."

Sasuke shrugged. "I wouldn't expect you to. You..." he paused, then bit his lip. "tend to see just the best in people."

She swallowed, then slowly tore her eyes away from the painting to look at him. "Sasuke...?"

His eyes were narrowed, burgeoning with...with what? He turned her to face him gently, placing both hands on her shoulders, claiming her undivided attention. He swallowed; she watched his Adam's apple bob uncertainly in his throat. "Listen, Hinata, I..."

Suddenly he stiffened and pulled away, looking as though he'd just swallowed a lemon whole. Hinata gave him a puzzled look, and then turned and saw the sudden source of his distress.

"Hinata! I knew I'd find you somewhere!" Anko said, grinning. Hinata blinked twice- her dressing was actually appropriate. Okay, so the neckline dipped a little low, and the dress was made entirely of glittering sequins, but it was black and 1920s-flapper classy and nothing like Anko's usual creations.

"Why so stupefied?" Anko said loudly, slinking up to her and squeezing her into a hug. Behind them, Sasuke was trying desperately to make himself invisible.

"I-I..." she stammered stupidly. It would be too embarrassing to say that her heart was hammering far too quickly to allow her words, that she was still half dazed from the intensity in Sasuke's gaze. Anko, however, must have picked up on this regardless, because she wheeled around to Sasuke and cocked a hip to one side.

"Hey, pretty boy," she said, "You trying to put the moves on Hinata-chan over here?"

Sasuke suddenly went steely. "If I was, you'd have no business asking."

Hinata winced- one had to either be very brave or have a deathwish to give Anko that kind of mouth. Anko glared up at him. "It is my business, dollface," she said warningly. "Hinata works for me. She comes in heartbroken, becomes a mess at work, I lose business. Capiche?"

She wasn't sure whether to be appalled or tickled by Anko's pun, so she settled for the latter. She giggled aloud, muffling the sound with a fist. Anko and Sasuke interrupted a vicious glaring contest to look down at her.

"Look, you've already started addling with her brains," Anko accused.

Sasuke ignored her. "Hinata, let's move on," he said crossly. "This room's giving me the creeps."

Anko's face twisted into a scowl. "I'll wind your pretty little neck, you-!"

"A-Anko, why don't you go find Sai?" Hinata offered. "He's probably looking for you."

Anko stiffened. She knew what dismissal sounded like, even if Hinata managed to pretty it up.

"Fine," she said, sashaying out of the room like she owned the place, "It'll be more fun with him, anyway."

The moment she was out of earshot, Sasuke shook his head. "We have to find you new friends."

Hinata smirked. "You mean, out of that horde of boys who see me as a delicious slab of steak?"

"Better than Smiley and Psychopath."

She laughed- it was strange how she found the descriptions more fitting than offensive. Sai and Anko probably would too.

They moved through several more rooms in the next hour, and finally Hinata saw the scale of the event- each room seemed to be more and more crowded, to the point that they had to wait in a makeshift line to look at the works. There were several winners, and therefore probably even more entries. It was as though this Hyuuga Neji had managed to take a sample from every promising artist in Japan and abroad and display them on his walls.

"Isn't it genius?" An elderly woman whispered to her as they waited to move into the next room. "One of my dear boys invited me to this event. I never thought anything could be this beautiful."

Hinata nodded in response, offering the woman a soft smile. Her hair was a solid, iron grey, she was short and stout and exuded the same motherly aura as the Matron. Her dark, shrewd eyes drifted across the room and landed on Sasuke, who lagged a few feet behind, gazing at a painting like a little boy at the window of a candystore. He turned, caught them looking, and shuffled his feet.

"That one is quite a looker," the woman said, with the wicked leer of a senior remembering her younger days. "Your date?"

"Y-yes." It was her turn to be embarrassed, again. Almost conspiratorially, she turned Hinata away with a steady, warm arm across her shoulders.

The woman sighed deeply. "You know, I met my late-husband at an exhibition like this." When Hinata's smile dropped, she chuckled. "It's no matter, darling, we all die eventually. The important thing is that we are left with memories, right?"

Hinata bit her lip- she hadn't been so blessed. "Yes," she murmured. "I suppose."

"Now, he wasn't quite so handsome as your date, but I must say he looked quite dashing. We just happened to stop to admire one picture at the same time, and we ended up talking. We stayed so long that the exhibit cleared out and we had an hour to ourselves before closing. And after all of that, we finally introduced ourselves."

"You didn't know each other's names until the end of the night?" Hinata asked, enchanted.

"It's something, isn't it? We linked arms, held hands, even kissed at the end, all without knowing who we were. My parents would have been so scandalized." She chuckled to herself. "Young love...when it turns out, that is, can be one of the most beautiful things out there. If you don't mind me asking, do you have feelings for that boy?"

Hinata stiffened. The woman laughed and patted her arm. "No need to be alarmed, dear. When you get to my age, you'll realize that nosiness comes quite naturally to old ladies."

"It's okay," Hinata said, sneaking Sasuke a furtive glance. Did she? Finding someone attractive wasn't the same as...loving them. Love was that strange thrumming that went through her chest every time she looked at Gaara, right? But, she reasoned, she'd gotten that same feeling when Deidara'd kissed her, and every now and then Sasuke brought it on as well. Being with Sasuke was always unpredictable, sometimes exhilarating, often infuriating- yet she liked being around him, being by his side. "I d-don't know," she finally stammered. "It's a bit confusing right now for me," she admitted.

"But he obviously is fond of you," the lady said. "I can see it."

She blushed. "I guess."

The woman hummed deeply, it rumbled from her chest like the vibrations of a bass drum. Her eyes slid to Sasuke mischievously, and then she smiled, so widely that she could see a silver crown on one of her molars.

"Well, dear," she said slowly, "Since you are so unsure about such a wonderful looking fellow...I don't think you'll mind if I snap him up."

Hinata gaped. "Wait! Um..."

But it was too late. The woman had already walked purposefully to her date. She watched as he turned down to look at her and cringed-Sasuke wasn't known to be polite to his elders- and then she opened her eyes again. The woman leaned up and whispered something; Sasuke blushed, and then...

Laughed.

Her eyes widened.

It hadn't even been sarcastic. Sasuke Uchiha had just laughed- and it made him look happy. He had dimples. Her throat tightened.

He held his arm out for her. Leaning up, the woman linked her short ones with his long, and together they made their way toward the exit, where the line was easing up.

"Sorry, Hinata," Sasuke said, bemused, as he passed. "I think I've been stolen."

Her face broke out into a smile. "It's okay. She's hotter than me, anyway."

The woman stuck out her tongue. "We'll see you at the dinner, erm...?"

"Hyuuga Hinata," she provided.

"Akeboshi Miyo," the woman replied, and then looked up at Sasuke like a tickled schoolgirl on her first date. "Shall we go, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke smirked. "Most certainly, Miyo-chan."

And they glided away, the most handsome man in the room and the oldest woman, one leaning slightly down and the other leaning slightly up.

* * *

She didn't see them again until the dinner. The moment the clock struck nine, a swarm of servants dressed in all white ushered them into an enormous room, much like the one at Michaelangelo's. There were about thirty round tables, swathed in tablecloths that matched the patterns on the envelope. Each table was designated for a winning artist and his or her guests. Hinata searched the crowd for a mop of red hair- the surest way to find her party- and shuffled across the floor. Her feet were starting to hurt- these pumps were more painful than some of the crazy seven-inch stilettos Anko frequently forced on her- but otherwise she was in strangely good spirits.

She found Sasuke near the front of the room, close to the wide, raised rectangular keynote table. He leaned down to kiss Miyo's weathered hand; she tittered and tapped his cheek good-naturedly, probably saying something to tease him, because he blinked rapidly in wonder and she laughed heartily with him.

Then, Miyo stepped up the platform and took a seat at the keynote table, grinding widely and folding her hands. She waved Sasuke away, but Sasuke, like Hinata, didn't move, just gave Miyo an appraising look.

She was sitting at the keynote table, where only Hyuuga Neji and the seasoned, respected artists and critics were allowed a place. Just who was Miyo-san?

"Hinata!" a cheerful voice called, and Hinata found Matsuri, who was waving her over good-naturedly to a table not even ten meters away. Gaara offered her a small smile and, like a real gentleman, pulled out the seat for his date.

"Where's Uchiha-san?" Gaara asked as she approached.

"He'll be here in a minute," Hinata replied coolly. She looked out into the room; he was his currently glaring openly at an ogling young woman as he sauntered over to them. She offered a shrug and a small smile; he rolled his shoulders back and returned it.

"How was your date?" she asked teasingly, sitting down.

"Fantastic," he drawled back, and then chuckled. "That woman is out of her mind."

She stared in awe for a moment and then shook her head, secretly wondering whether Sasuke was more suited to an old woman than to her. Of course, said thought was quickly erased when Sasuke leaned over, a sly smile on his face, and whispered the most terrifying sentence she'd hear that day.

"When we get back," he murmured silkily, "We're going to have a nice, long chat."

She could almost count the goosebumps as they spread down her back. "O-okay," she stammered, feeling her face redden. Sasuke smirked smugly and then, with an uncharacteristic flourish, pulled out her chair for her. Had she been paying any attention, she might have noticed the way he turned to wink at Miyo, or the way Miyo blew a kiss back.

Instead, every fibre of her being was focused on the platform, where a slender young man was walking up to a black podium.

Her fists clenched at her sides as her entire body seized. He looked up, smiled slightly in welcome. The hall fell silent reverently. And then he turned to survey his audience, his gaze sweeping the crowd and past her.

Those...those were her eyes.

Oh god.

* * *

**A/N**: Guess who she's freaking out over? Can you guess? If you can't, I may have to beat you across the head with a tin watering can, because I've been spending the last few chapters dropping rather aggressive hints.

This chapter took forever to write, because I'm AWFUL at rich-people-event things. So, if you think the exhibition sounds like absolute imaginative bullshit, that's cuz it is. :D I hope you like it regardless. The reason why I love writing this story is because I can just throw every slightly-cliche-plot-bunny I can think of at it and pour, like, 110% of my silliness into it without feeling too guilty, because it's intended to be mostly silly with a slightly-serious romantic angle. Right now it's going through a serious phase that'll last for a while, I'm afraid. :P

On a side note, all of you who read Bound, I should remind you that I'm DONE with the story. I'm a little saddened by my general lack of feedback on it, because I'm a spoiled writer who thrives on such things. Remember that "great" or "love it" aren't feedback- I'm not particularly looking to up my review count, I'm just a little emotionally invested in it, so I'd like to hear what you think about it. Also, big huge thanks to all my reviewers—you guys are awesome—and especially to Azaeilia, who went through and reviewed EVERY CHAPTER. You da bomb. Srsly.


	18. Chapter 18

****

A/N:

Eeps. Possibly one of the hardest chapters to write.

**Disclaimer: **Naruto isn't mine. Neither is Sasuke, who deserves a break, btw. He's been dying from angst inhalation since day one.

**Chapter Eighteen**

The room had fallen silent but for the respectful clicks of silverware as the keynote and host stepped to the stage. Their eyes were all on him, this Neji Hyuuga, this successful genius.

The man with her eyes.

She stared up at him blankly, her mind reeling. At this point, how could she could dismiss it as coincidence—that they could share the same last name and features? She could see her pale skin reflected on him, her eyes, the slight upturn of her nose. Except he was more beautiful than her. Of course he'd be. He'd been a beautiful child.

Her head throbbed; in her mind's eye, it wasn't this tall and dignified man on the platform but a small boy with a cold smile and gentle hands.

"Hinata-sama," she heard, in a soft, high pitch, though she knew he was actually speaking about expression in his exhibition, and that his voice, though not deep, was a man's. "Hinata-sama, come here."

She knew this boy. She remembered how those little hands had fit into hers, how the tiny fingers squeezed and reassured. She remembered crying and remembered those hands brushing the tears away. She remembered long, healthy hair, tied back and away from a round face, a face that had to be carefully tapped for to expose the kindness that hid underneath. She knew this boy and she loved him.

Her feet were moving, but she didn't care. Her eyes were fixed on his face, mentally comparing the new parts to the old, the high, aristocratic cheekbones that had surfaced out of baby fat, the full lips, the slender and lithe frame. _He looks like he could be in a boy band_, she thought, and then giggled aloud.

Distantly, she could hear Sasuke calling out for her in a harsh whisper, felt his hand on her wrist, pulling her back, but she had to get to _him_, had to, because if she didn't he might disappear again, and she didn't know if her heart could take that.

He was getting bigger; or she was getting closer? Her ears were buzzing, the images in her peripheral were becoming blurred until she only saw him, the light at the end of the tunnel.

And then she reached him. She was right in front of him, a couple feet below. Just a bit more and she could touch him.

He'd stopped talking. He was looking down at her, brow furrowed.

She smiled. Her world was swimming now, becoming a molten mixture of colors. "Nii-san."

And then the tunnel closed in on her, enshrouding her in black. The buzzing heightened until she could hear nothing else, like she was trapped in an angry hive. She felt herself falling.

_**THUD.**_

Crap. That had not just happened. But there she was, lying on the floor, out like a light. Crap, crap, crap. Sasuke rushed out of his seat, cursing repeatedly under his breath. What was she thinking, walking up there like that, in front of so many people, no l

* * *

ess? He'd always known that Hinata was missing a crucial chunk of common sense, but he had no idea she was _completely mental_.

Then again, maybe he was mental too for running over to pick her up. That fall would definitely hurt when she woke up, after all, and he may be a bit of a bastard but he'd be damned if he weren't a gentleman.

That hollow pounding in the back of his head, the way his throat tightened and his heart jolted when she hit the floor—that was just an unwanted side effect.

But, what the hell was this now? Three burly security guards were walking briskly to where she lay, rolling their thick shoulders back, and all he could think was "No way they're actually sending these guys for a harmless girl with scrambled eggs for brains." The hall was buzzing with curious and scandalized voices; he walked faster, eyeing the guards through their stupid aviator glasses.

"Hey, back off. I'll take her home-"

"No. I didn't call for you. Go back to your stations."

Sasuke turned. The Hyuuga Neji guy had descended from his platform to join the realm of mortals, it seemed. He tried to glare at him (who cares how important he was, Sasuke hated people who liked to act like they were above everyone else, and especially those who talked over him), but the guy wasn't even looking at him; heck, he wasn't even standing. He was on his knees on the floor, Hinata nestled in his arms, and there was something in the way he was staring at her, as though he was half convinced that she wasn't real, just an apparition, that made Sasuke swallow back what felt like a block of lead.

Hyuuga Neji looked up, and Sasuke stepped back.

Aw, hell.

They had the same eyes.

Just his luck.

"You're her friend, right?" Neji said. His voice was hoarse but soft. "What's her name?"

The way he asked, it was like he already knew, but was afraid to admit it. It was strangely humbling, to see this high-and-mighty, stick-up-the-ass success story looking so desperate.

"Hyuuga Hinata," Sasuke said. Neji's face went ashen. "Her name's Hyuuga Hinata."

Up on the platform, Miyo-chan was smiling like an old lady with a big secret.

"You're sure...?" His voice cracked. Sasuke looked away.

"Of course I'm sure. She's my date."

Neji nodded shakily once, and, gently draped Hinata's limp arms around his shoulders. With a boost and a grunt, he had her on his back. Sasuke couldn't help but be impressed- Hinata was far from weightless and frankly, this Neji guy had looked like a total pansy.

"I'm going to borrow her, if you don't mind." The assured prince from the pedestal was back, most of the shock and quiver already gone from his voice. He turned belatedly to his murmuring, gaping audience, bowed precariously, and shuffled out of the room. Sasuke watched in shock as the side door slammed shut.

Had he just voluntarily allowed Hinata to be kidnapped?

"W-Well," Miyo-chan said, a bit nervously, over the mike, "How about you all enjoy your dinners? We are blessed to have the renowned Chef Misora preside over our meals..."

Sighing, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and sauntered after the man. He eyed the security guards warily out of the corner of his eye- one of those guys wouldn't be too much of a problem, but with three he'd definitely have his hands more than full- and calmly pushed the door open. The three gorillas hadn't even twitched. He turned to the platform and caught Miyo-chan shaking her head silently at them. He grinned; she caught his eye and winked.

Maybe he ought to rethink his whole theory on snobs. Having friends in high places was awfully convenient.

He pushed the door open and allowed himself to run down the hall like his life depended on it, pulling off his jacket as he did. His tie whipped around his neck haphazardly. _Why are you panicking? the _aloof part of him asked. _She'll come out. You know that. Hinata faints all the time. She'll be perfectly fine, and you're making a fool of yourself going after her like this.  
_  
Eff off, he told his conscience, and kept going.

* * *

The bed she lay in was soft, and she remembered those cheesy mattress commercials (like a cloud, they'd said) and for once agreed that they hadn't been exaggerating completely. Turning, she snuggled deeper into the covers, and then suddenly realized that she was supposed to be at a dinner and jolted straight up.

The room was white. After a night of colors, it was blinding. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

"You're awake."

She turned. A man leaned against the wall, his chin tilted almost imperceptibly up. It felt like he were dissecting her with his gaze. She stared at him in a mixture of awe and terror, realizing suddenly that this was the keynote himself, and if he was here with her, who was entertaining the guests?

He stepped toward her and sat down on the desk chair close to her bed, wheeling it forward until he was right in front of her.

"Miyo-san is taking care of the rest of the dinner," he said, as though he'd read right through her panic. His lips tightened. For some reason, she knew that he was thinking, not irritated. "How are you feeling?"

She swallowed. "A little light-headed, b-but I'm sure I'll be fine." A little more softly, she added, "I'm a little a-anemic, so I pass out every now and then..."

He looked at her gravely. "I know."

A shudder worked its way up her back, and she turned away, avoiding his gaze like a plague. He seemed to notice, because she heard an uncharacteristic scoff and felt the sudden weight against the mattress.

"Do you know who I am?"

Against her will, she looked back to him.

Of course she knew. Prodigy Hyuuga Neji, twenty years old and already sure to land in the history books with the likes of Da Vinci and Van Gogh, and also number seven on the list of "men women in their twenties most admire." Sai had fan-boyed over him enough over the past week for Hinata to know everything about him, from his favorite color to his shoe size.

But, for some reason, she knew that that wasn't what he meant, and not what she did either. As she looked at him she only saw a boy, and in her head, that boy was her nii-san. Logically, she knew it was madness to instantly link both this recently resurfaced memory to the prestigious artist sitting next to her, but in her heart they had to be one and the same.

"Your favorite color isn't white, is it?" She found herself mumbling, kneading her hands together. "That magazine was wrong. It's periwinkle blue."

The smile that lit up his face was instantaneous and strangely sunny for a person of such an icy demeanor. Then it disappeared, as though disciplined, and became pained and brittle.

"Right," he said. "But seeing as the media prefers to peg me as 'pretty,'  
I couldn't fuel their effeminate image of me with an effeminate color."

"P-periwinkle isn't effeminate," she murmured. "It's calming."

He smirked coolly. "Do you know what...we are?"

Hinata bit her lip. "T-to...each other?"

He nodded once. The way he looked at her- it reminded her of the look that Sasuke had given her in the abstract room, before Anko interrupted- demanding wholly of her attention in a way that made her feel wanted and uncomfortable at once.

"Are we...siblings?" She mouthed the last word weakly.

He shook his head. "We're cousins," he said.

"Cousins," Hinata repeated.

"Cousins."

"Oh. I see." She smiled meekly. It was odd how natural this felt, how much it just made sense. "Well, I-I see you've done well for yourself."

He shrugged, dismissing millions of yen's worth of accomplishments as unimportant. "I...was almost certain that you were dead."

If they hadn't been sitting so close, or maybe if he hadn't said it so suddenly, she might not have caught it. Her mind flashed to the crash and then abruptly reeled- had he been in the accident too? She doubted it; in those memories she never pictured him. Then, he was living with his own parents?

Before she could ask any questions, however, he was standing and adjusting his jacket.

"We have a lot to talk about," he whispered. "Perhaps now isn't the best time."

Hinata tossed her legs over the edge of the bed. It took effort to resist protesting, but she reminded herself that this wasn't Sai, she couldn't just monopolize him- he belonged to everyone. She would have to share.

"All right," she breathed, pulling herself to her feet. Her pumps waited for her by the bed, pulled off and resting neatly on the floor; reluctantly, she slipped into them and rubbed her ankles slowly in circles. "Let's go back. I'll go sit with Sasuke and Gaara again, they must be so embarrassed-"

And then she was cut off by the feeling of a body slamming into hers, and arms holding around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that Neji was...hugging her.

"You...haven't changed much at all," he muttered into her hair. She bit her lip and slowly hugged him back.

"Neither have you, nii-san."

* * *

They walked slowly down the hall from whence they came, her arm tucked into his. Cousins, she thought. I'm related to this guy. The thought gave her a strange thrill. For so long, she'd been sure she was alone, the last member of a nearly extinct family. Yet, here she was, next to possibly the most established young artist on the eastern hemisphere who just so happened to be her last relative.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice until it was too late that they'd stopped.

"Ah, it's you," Neji said smoothly. "How did you get in here anyway? This entrance is for speakers and staff only."

"I had to come get my date, didn't I?" She stiffened at the voice, measured but rough with annoyance, and met Sasuke's eyes reluctantly. A pang of guilt swam through her- he must have been mortified when she floated off like that- but then again, he probably didn't care.

"S-Sasuke," she managed awkwardly, detaching herself from her cousin, "I-I want you to meet Neji. He's...my cousin."

"I figured you were related," he said flippantly, as though the news that she'd found her long-lost relative wasn't particularly riveting, "But Miyo-chan is starting to run out of knock-knock jokes and I got impatient."

Neji's eyes narrowed. "You know Hiragana-sama?"

Sasuke shrugged. "She was my date, too. Seems I'm pretty hot on the market, huh?"

Neji's face paled even more. Hinata found herself wondering whether he wasn't actually partly made from marble. "Hiragana-sama is an insufferable old flirt. Do not flatter yourself too much."

"Anyway." Sasuke turned his gaze back to Hinata, letting Neji's comment slide right off of him. "Let's go."

She threw a questioning glance at Neji, and then the hand Sasuke had extended. "Erm, okay..."

Stepping forward, she reached out to accept it.

And was stopped by another hand suddenly grasping hers. 'It's bigger than mine now,' she found herself thinking, 'and rougher.'

"You're coming up with me," Neji said coldly. "Many of my colleagues have known that I've been searching for you. They'd be honored to meet you at last."

"B-b-but-!" Her eyes widened and she looked to Sasuke pleadingly.

"Hinata doesn't do well in public," Sasuke retorted for her, "She'd just pass out again."

She opened her mouth to refute this, and quickly clapped it shut again.

"She'll be fine," Neji half-snarled.

"How do you know that? You've only been with her fifteen minutes."

Neji bristled, color rising to his face for once, and Hinata wondered whether they were just plain opposites- that he should tend toward porcelain white and she cherry red.

"That is long enough to know that she hasn't changed. I don't know what kind of selfish creature would disrupt a reunion as ours."

"Oh please. I don't know what kind of guy actually thinks that people don't change after potty training-"

"P-Please don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Exhausted, she tugged away from her cousin and drew back. She could feel both men stiffening at in front and behind her and she brushed off her skirt before looking up to Sasuke. "I...this is something really important to me, Sasuke-kun. Neji is...Neji is my only family. I-I...I think I want to get to know him tonight." When he visibly grit his teeth, she added, "I p-promise I'll make it up to you somehow! I-I've had a really great time with you."

Her voice faded on the last word and she stared up at him imploringly, begging him not to make a scene or object. His expression was unreadable, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Fine," he finally murmured. "Be back before we leave."

"Y-yes," she said, suddenly breathless. "Thank you."

He turned away on his heel. "Hn."

And then he walked away, and she watched him go and wondered whether this... all of this...was right. Asking her to come with him. Embarrassing him repeatedly, and then effectively choosing another guy over him. Was he hurt? His shoulders were hunched slightly; she prodded her fingers together. Really, besides the gruff overprotectiveness and the general douchebaggery, he was good to her. And she couldn't really say the same of herself. She sighed; squeezed her eyes shut.

And ran toward him.

"S-Sasuke-kun!"

He stopped, but didn't turn, his hand already hovering over the push-bar on the door. She stepped to his side, then boosted herself to her tiptoes, trying to ignore the alarm bells in her head and butterflies in her belly. Her lips pressed his cheek briefly, and then she quickly darted down, beet-red and half-mortified, staring at her feet.

Cautiously, she glanced up to gauge his reaction. His eyes were dark, slightly wide, his jaw a little slack, but otherwise it was as though she'd done nothing at all.

"T-T-Thank you," she stammered, barely able to get the words out.

He nodded once and left. She sighed heavily and pivoted back to her cousin.  
Neji was staring pointedly at the ceiling, as though his long-since dormant protection instinct had suddenly reared up and he was making a true effort to stifle it.

"Okay," she breathed, holding out her arm. He smiled, a regal, barely-there quirk of his lips, and took it.

* * *

Blindly, she walked with her cousin into the grand hall again. Around her, everything seemed to be moving in a whir- Neji nodded his head here and suddenly there was a chair right next to him just for her, Miyo-chan squealed excitedly and babbled incessantly about how much alike they looked and the way the texture of the steak was just perfect, next to them impressive old professors were shaking her hands and talking to her as though they'd known her for years, and below them, looking nearly diminutive in comparison to the giants around her, was their reverent audience. She was a mere mortal in the realm of the gods, choking in the thin air that they thrived in.

Shakily, Hinata accepted her seat and her plate, a fairly healthy portion of something elaborate and expensive, was quickly placed before her. A professor with kind eyes and a full grey beard attempted to engage her in conversation, and she surprised herself in the ease by which she answered to his banter. She ate slowly, trying not to look down- it gave her an unsettling sense of vertigo- and tried not to search out Sasuke in the crowd. ('Of course he's mad, Hinata.') Still, it was difficult to avoid the shock of red that was Gaara's hair, and even harder not to check on how their table was faring. The three of them seemed to be actually talking, which both calmed and unsettled her- Sasuke and Gaara seldom spoke except through her, and Matsuri's well-meaning but inane comments always bounced right off of him. But from here, they seemed at ease.

"Hyuuga-san, you really must tell me," the old professor next to her was saying, "What are you pursuing right now, academically or otherwise?"

Hinata blinked herself out of stupor and offered the professor a demure smile. "Actually, I'm studying art." She took a slow bite and added quickly, "I'm really nowhere as good as nii-san, though."

"I'm sure you're very talented," he said warmly, "Blood like yours never goes to waste."

Was that a compliment? Hinata decided to pretend it was. "I'm still learning."

Neji shook his head. "It's a hard business. To be an artist, you have to be both incredibly selfish and incredibly selfless at once, do you understand? You have to bank on the fact that no matter how hard you work, you still might get nowhere, but still love it too much to care much for the material."

"I know that," Hinata countered automatically, "I have nothing to lose, and everything to g-gain, I think."

For a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, "Not too long ago, I thought the same thing."

"Did you?" The professor's eyes glimmered. Hinata was reminded of Miyo-chan's sly, knowing looks and wondered whether all of the elderly had the ability to read minds. "You broke through a while back, Hyuuga-san. Do you think you've ever had the right to think such a thing?"

Neji stiffened, but didn't scowl, as though the professor had not quite offended him as much as jarred him. The man spooned a mouthful of delectable mashed potato (fashioned into the shape of a rose, almost like icing on a cake) and made a huge show of gumming it until Neji responded.

"I had two goals. Restore my family's name, and find my cousin." He turned to Hinata and smiled. "I've accomplished both now, but back then I wasn't anywhere close."

"He's been looking for you, Hinata," the professor said thoughtfully, "Three years of hiring useless detectives and then you just show up at a dinner of your own accord. If that isn't evidence of destiny, I don't know what is."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hinata saw her cousin awkwardly attempt to swallow a deviled egg whole. "It is, isn't it."

* * *

When Neji had finally finished giving the closing remarks (he was as much an artist with words as he was with paints), Hinata quickly made her way off stage. Back on even ground again she felt a bit more at peace. Said peace lasted for all of two minutes. She soon discovered the error of her ways when a heavyset woman with wide, beautiful eyes approached her.

"Forgive me for prying," she said, in a tinny voice that hinted that she didn't mind prying at all, "But that was quite a fall you had there. Are you all right?"

Blushing brightly, Hinata nodded. "I-I'm fine, thank you. Just a little anemic."

"Oh, my. Well, seeing Hyuuga-sama is quite trying on the heart," the woman continued. "If I had the gall to strut up there myself, I'm not sure I wouldn't have toppled right over."

Hinata forced a smile. The way she spoke, it was as if she were insinuating something...dirty. Accusing her of foul play. Her stomach was tying itself in knots, which instantly became intricate sailor masterpieces when she saw a few other deceptively smiling women heading her way. Desperately, she looked around for an escape, trapped in an open room.

Oh, the irony.

A firm hand clapped her back. She surprised herself again by not jolting up in the air, alarmed and pleased by the way she managed to calmly turn and look behind her. Miyo-chan grinned up at her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She gave the small circle of women an acknowledging nod. They all seemed to step back out of respect, their gazes just a tad less predatory.

"Hiragana-sama, what an honor-"  
"Your speech tonight, flawless, really-"I've always wanted to meet you, it's been my dream..."  
"Your knock-knock jokes are absolutely superb, the best of their kind-"

Miyo nodded again, accepting their adulation as though it were nothing out of the ordinary, and skillfully steered Hinata back up the platform.

"There's a reason Neji keeps us elevated at events, you know," the older woman said offhandedly. She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the still squealing women, who at the moment looked no better than a well-dressed horde of Sasuke's fangirls. "They never shut up if you let them too close."

Hinata winced, about to remind her that a few hours ago, she'd been an insignificant part of the mob of mortals as well, but thought better of it.

"Miyo-san," Hinata said slowly, "Did you know?"

Miyo stopped, smiled brightly at a professor who was vying for her attention, and shrugged. "That you're related to the Young Master?"

Hinata bit her lip and nodded.

"The moment I saw you, I was a bit suspicious," she admitted. "You Hyuuga have very distinct features. Most people say it's the eyes, but I think..." she pressed Hinata's nose with her thumb playfully, "It's your noses. You definitely have a Hyuuga nose going there."

"O-oh?" Her gaze drifted to Neji, who was conversing seriously with a colleague. "I guess."

"Of course, the name fit too. And, no offense, but given what Neji's told me about his memories of you, you haven't changed much."

At this, her heart sank a little. All of this time, Neji had remembered her. Waited for her. She'd forgotten him entirely until tonight. Even the mention of his name hadn't set off any alarm bells.

"The kid's relieved," Miyo sighed. "He doesn't expect things to suddenly change, but he wants you in his life again." She paused, and then frowned. "Though, he'd never say so himself. It seems I'll always have to be speaking for him."

Hinata turned. "Miyo-san- who exactly are you?"

Miyo grinned her most wicked grin. "No one important," she said wistfully, and then patted her shoulder. "Go find your date, silly girl. Move quickly, or you'll be stopped again."

Blushing, Hinata nodded and descended the steps. The ladies from before were scattered throughout the room, and she took advantage of their broken ranks by power-walking through to her table. She found it fairly easily- Gaara was standing nearby, talking with terrifying seriousness to an older man in a navy blue suit; he gave her a quick grin that could easily have been missed and continued speaking without pausing once. Matsuri was floating by his side, adding her own two cents into the conversation when the men paused to take breaths.

Sasuke was at the table, alone. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair and he sat with his arms crossed, in don't-fuck-with-me-pitbull-mode. He didn't look up until she'd pulled her chair and sat down.

"Hey," she said, blushing despite herself. Did he really have to look at her like that?

"Hey." He leaned back. "How was your little reunion?"

Hinata shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. Neji is...nice."

He snorted. "He looks like he has a stick up his ass up to his lungs."

She raised an eyebrow. "You mean he's polished."

"Whatever." He shrugged. "You didn't tell me, you know." His expression was suddenly stony. She swallowed.

"T-Tell you what?" Sasuke's plate, she noticed, was nearly uneaten. The beautiful architecture of the food had been destroyed, the rose shaped potatoes stirred and beaten into a mush pile, the chicken cut and shifted, the vegetables untouched. He hadn't eaten a bite.

"That he was it. That you didn't have a family."

She turned away. "I didn't think it mattered."

He laughed again, a short, sarcastic sneer. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? Weren't you half pissing your pants with joy when you saw Sunshine over there?"

Her hands clenched on her lap. "You're right. It does matter." She looked up. She'd been irritated before, and occasionally frustrated, but right now she was downright pissed. "What I meant to say is that it was none of your business."

"It is my business," he said, leaning forward now. "It's my business if I have to let you go traipsing around with a strange man who..."

"It's none of your business if I go 'traipsing' around with my cousin, Sasuke." She made to stand, now just disgusted. He stood up too.

"Don't run away, Hinata!" he half-growled. "You're always running. Stop being a coward and face me, dammit!"

A dormant beast within her seemed to awaken. She clutched the back of her chair to steady herself, her teeth clenched. "Me? A coward? Really, Sasuke?" The same girl who was risking everything for the sake of a dream, the same girl who put up with his crap, a coward? She squeezed the wood. Her voice was a harsh whisper, loud enough to sting. "I'm not the one with serious personality issues to work out, Sasuke! I-I'm not going to stand here and take it while you insult me and my family. Goodnight."

At that, she swung away from him, not bothering to turn back and see his reaction. Screw Sasuke. Screw him and all of his stupid mood swings. She'd just come over to provide him company, to apologize for leaving him so alone, and he just had to go and be a complete ass. He could go home by himself, for all she cared.

**

* * *

**

A/N:

Forward three steps, back twenty-five. Oh, Sasuke. When will you learn? When will you stop being a selfish, jealous asshole and just let Hinata give you a chance? When will you find out the answer to these heart-wrenching questions.

**SPOILER ALERT. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW.**

Soon.

3, Pet Me, Feed Me.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **I don't know why, but I didn't LOVE writing this chapter. It really dragged for me. Maybe because it's one of those transition chappies? :P

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own Naruto

Motha Fuckas Hell No

Ain't gon' try and steal it

Cuz they'll bring out the po-pos.

Plus ya'll know that if I did

I'd be rollin' in the dough.

Not writin' these fics

Like a fuckin' hobo.

WORD.

(Tribute to Killer Bee, who, despite being kind of a ridiculous character, is quickly becoming my fave. Also, I can never, ever, be a rapper. And fic-writer's aren't hobos. I just couldn't think of another rhyme for an 'o.' Cookie for anyone who can?)

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

Within the hour, the dining hall was cleared. Waiters in black uniforms bussed the tables and janitors in white rolled them away. Hinata sat on the carpeted platform, legs swinging off the edge, painful pumps lying discarded two feet below her. She'd watched the guests leave from her seat up high, first in trickles, then in droves. Gaara had stopped to ask whether she'd be returning with them, and when she'd politely declined, nodded and smiled and went his way. Sasuke hadn't turned back once.

Men sucked, she decided. Life had been so much more peaceful when she'd just stayed away.

The staff door creaked open. She smiled, but didn't turn her head.

"Nii-san."

A smile. "Do you want to go home?"

She looked up, kicking her legs up higher into the air. "Do you want me to?" When he didn't respond, she scoffed and patted the space beside her. Her cousin scaled the stairs and settled at her side, removing his jacket and tossing it behind him. "I need you to tell me something, Neji."

"Anything," he said easily, and then added automatically, "Within reason."

She let her legs settle against the platform with a soft thud. "What were they like? My parents. _My sister_. I've forgotten everything, you know." Her voice cracked. "I want to know who they were."

Neji didn't reply immediately, but then again of course he wouldn't. Neji never opened his mouth without analyzing and reanalyzing his thoughts.

"Your mother...was...soft-spoken, always gentle. You idolized her."

Hinata thought of the face in her dreams, a beautiful, round one with pearl eyes lined in kohl, smiling at her like she was a gift from the gods.

"In many ways, she complimented your father." Neji's voice grew soft, "He was a hard man. He cared about you all very much, but he didn't usually show it. When my parents died, your mother and father became mine." He smiled weakly at her, his eyes probing into hers. She blinked back tears she hadn't felt coming.

"Yours, too."

He shrugged. "I was too young to remember."

She almost had been as well.

"And...my sister?" She whispered haltingly. For so long, she had seen only shadows. Glimpses. She'd equated those dreams of white eyes and warm touches to her own wishes for a family, when in reality they'd been memories. For those memories to finally gain substance...

"She was about three," he whispered, and she winced at the implied "when it happened" that he held back out of tact. "But incredibly intelligent, and horribly spoiled. Her speech was remarkably good for a toddler's." He smiled. "Uncle Hiashi used to say that it was better than yours."

It probably was, she thought. Her stammer was still annoyingly prevalent now, after months of discipline from emotionally-abusive boys; it was a wonder that back then she could speak at all.

"Her name?" She asks.

"Hanabi."

Hanabi. The name hit her like a bludgeon, a name to finally match the round, grinning face she remembered.  
That was enough for one night. Her mind whirled again, and it hurt. Hanabi. Hinata. They had been fireworks and sunny places, light that could not coexist. She'd been so young, too, just a baby. Standing, she pressed her bare toes into the carpet and breathed.

"I...I think I want to go home now."

Neji nodded slowly and stood as well. "I understand."

"I..." she stared at the floor carefully, "Can you tell me more, next time?"

"Of course. I'll call Sanada; he'll bring the car around. We'll drop you-"

She shook her head. "Alone, please." When he recoiled, she finally looked up and offered a shallow smile. "Please don't take it the wrong way. I just want to be by myself for a little while."

Neji looked down at her, eyes narrowed skeptically. "You're sure you're all right?" He looked her up and down, and she hated the way he seemed to be able to interpret everything about her, her posture, the way her fingers were curled, and know that something was amiss.

"I'm all right." Then... "Nii-san, I need your phone number."

He blinked dumbly at her for a moment, as though her sudden request had taken a split second too long to compute, then nodded once. "Yes, of course." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone just as she did hers- his an expensive-looking smartphone, hers a basic flip, the cheapest available. They exchanged, and she could see the way his eyebrow twitched, as though her measly technology was somehow inferior.

"This model came out in 2005," he said with a touch of distaste. "I didn't know they even made SIM cards for this anymore." He handed back her phone with a slight brandish. "I'll get you a new one."

Ah, she thought. A tech-geek as well, to be able to guess the year at a glance.

"I wouldn't know how to work one like yours," she admitted shyly, giving his back as well, "I couldn't find the 'contacts' section, so I just dialed..."

With a few quick taps, he resolved the problem. "You'll learn quickly," he said offhandedly, "I'm calling Sanada. Can I at least walk you out?"

She smiled. Was the tension she felt all trapped inside? Neji seemed fluid and calm about all of this, but why wouldn't he be- none of this was entirely new to him. He knew what had happened to his parents, knew his family before they perished as well, knew that somewhere in the world, he had a younger cousin. She-she felt like she was swimming in jello.

"Nii-san," she said, offering her arm, "It would be a great pleasure."

* * *

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. How could she be such an idiot? She'd forgotten her sneakers in Gaara's limo. She'd left them behind, along with her long trench. Originally, her plan had been simple, stop off at TAGS, which was a few miles from TABS, and walk to the closest bus station in her comfortable sneaks. But her feet- they were dying. She'd just recently gotten used to high heels, but this pair took the cake in terms of discomfort. She looked down at them and winced. At the same time, it would be idiotic to waltz right into TABS dressed in a way that revealed her as absolutely, undeniably female, and even more imbecilic to expect Anko to be at the Serpent at this hour (not even she would stay at her beloved cafe past two in the morning.) She was screwed, for lack of a better word.

The driver, Sanada, was a good-natured guy in his late-thirties who cracked dry jokes and never asked questions outside of, "Where are you headed miss" and "Are you comfortable miss." Unfortunately, she was certain that the moment he returned, Neji would want to know from whence he came. And she didn't think that now was a good time to let long-lost-protective-nii-san in on the fact that she was going to an all boy's school.

She called Anko just in case and met with an aggressive voice demanding her to leave a message. She tried calling Sai, and then abruptly remembered that there was no way he could sneak her in unnoticed without having to make up some god-awful story to his floormates later. ("Oh, Hana-chan? She works at an escort service down the street. Oh, no, she's rather expensive, and mine for the night. Sweet dreams, guys!") But no matter, he didn't pick up either. She tried again.

_'Call Sasuke,'_ her more sensible conscience told her. _'He'll be mad, but he'll bring you your coat, at least.'_

_'Screw Sasuke,_' her stubborn, vindictive, and unfortunately dominant personality responded.

Flipping open her apparently-outdated cell, she scrolled through her meager list of contacts. TAGS. She'd have to go to TAGS, she decided. It wouldn't be strange at all for her to be 'attending' a prestigious art school, especially since she'd told the professor what she was studying. That narrowed her potential aid down to Temari and Ino. Temari, for all her decorum, was scary as hell and the last person on Earth that she'd want to wake up this early. So...

She stopped at Ino's number and dialed.

She picked up after two rings. "Hello? Hinata?"

Hinata grimaced. Leave it to Ino to still be awake and cheerful at two in the morning. "Hi, Ino," she said sheepishly. "Sorry for calling so late."

"Yea, you better be sorry," Ino said, "Any other day and I'd bitch you out, but since you're calling now, I guess it must be important. What's up?"

Hinata sighed and glanced up warily at Sanada, who was sitting perfectly still and had his hands stationed appropriately at ten and two. "I...I need a favor."

Ino whistled lowly. "At two in the morning? Okay, shoot."

"I'm coming...to TAGS."

"Okay," was the unblinking reply. Hinata coughed.

"I-I said...I'm coming to TAGS. And...and it's dark, so I don't want to walk by myself, so..."

Ino scoffed, as though she'd heard much more unreasonable requests at two in the morning. "I heard you. What time should I come get you?"

"Erm..." biting her lip, she glanced up. "Excuse me...Sanada-san?"

Sanada nodded once but thankfully, didn't turn around. "Yes, miss."

"How long would it take to get to TAGS?"

He responded immediately, as though he'd made the trip a thousand times. "About twenty minutes."

She relayed the information to Ino. "Twenty minutes?"

There was a loud sigh, and the sound of things shuffling. "Okay. Pick you up at the front gate?"

"Yes, please." Then, "Thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

Sanada-san stalled at the front entrance of TAGS, pulling through the narrow brick arch with the ease of someone who has handled tougher vehicles. Even with just the aid of the streetlights, TAGS felt so much more ornate than TABS. It reminded her of all of the beautiful girl's schools she'd seen in manga and magazines, the kind that were lined with sakura trees that sent their petals floating through the air in the spring and stocked with girls who all looked like pop idols and models.

Within the minute, Ino came bounding around the corner, hair bound up into a bobbing bun on top of her head. Even in baggy "ULTRA HOT" sweatpants and a cut off shirt, she managed to look fashionable.

"That's her, Sanada-san," Hinata breathed, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Thank you so much for bringing me."

Sanada opened his door and cocked his hat. "It's a pleasure, miss." Stepping out, he traversed the car to her side and opened hers as well. She stepped out, bowed, bade him good night, and smiled up at a gaping Ino.

"What the hell, Hinata?" Ino whispered, looking her up and down, taking in the dress and earrings and (with a wince) shoes. It suddenly occurred to Hinata that, although Ino had seen her breasts, she had yet to see her dressed as a girl. Smiling widely, she pulled Ino into a warm hug that was reciprocated with back-patting awe.

"You haven't been selling yourself to rich old men, have you?" Ino said, still shocked. "Cuz otherwise, you've got lots of explaining to do."

"N-no!" Hinata sputtered, shaking her head vigorously. Then..."Thank you. I promise I'll explain when we get to your room..."

"No." Ino's voice was firm. She wheeled in front of Hinata and crossed her arms, effectively blocking off the path with sheer Ino-like boar-ishness. "We are walking, and you are talking. I'm out here this late for you, so this better be good."

There was no helping it. If Ino left her (which she was fully capable of doing,) her options would be dwindle to bad, worse, and godawful, the last of which involved her sleeping in a bathhouse locker room. Sighing, she threaded her hands into her hair. Ino, taking this as a sign of compliance, moved to her side and began to walk briskly.

"I went to an art exhibition," Hinata offered lamely. Ino snorted, dissatisfied.

"That explains the dress, but not where you got it, not why you're out this late, and most definitely not why you have a butler driving you up in a Benz. So." She swung around, smirking triumphantly.

"It's a long story," Hinata mumbled.

"I do like 'em long," was the tart reply, "So you'd better start now."

Hinata looked from Ino to her impossible shoes to the well-lit but eerie path behind her, and sighed defeatedly. If the price for getting out of this mess was a tale, she wouldn't be the fool to hold it back.

"Go on, spill," Ino said emphatically, and, obedient as she was, she obliged.

* * *

"You're what." Ino said flatly. They had reached her room, a small single papered so thoroughly with posters of boy bands and famous paintings that it was hard to believe that the walls were really white. Ino had collapsed into her magenta club chair, allowing herself to be swallowed up by velvety fabric, and Hinata, unsure of where she fit amongst so much...girliness, sat stiffly on the floor, legs tucked under her, back straight. Her heels she had placed carefully at the foot of the bedroll Ino had produced for her ("Lucky that I host prospies, huh?")

"Cousins," Hinata repeated, voice soft but clear.

"So...you're telling me that and THE Neji Hyuuga are long-lost cousins."

"Yes."

"And the reason you have to come here is cuz you can't have his driver report that you go to a boy's school."

"N-naturally," Hinata responded, swallowing back a lump of guilt.

"And on top of that," Ino exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air, "You're coming in so late because you've had three hunky boys pulling at your arms for attention all night."

"Yea-wait, what?"

Ino sneered, looking down reproachfully at Hinata. "Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about, you little minx. Do you know how long I pined after Sasuke? Do you know how much I spent on sexy little outfits to try to impress him? And you waltz in your bowl-cut and wrapped chest and he goes gaga for you. What is that?"

Too dazed to be properly indignant, Hinata blinked owlishly at her glaring benefactress. Ino was a lot of things- loud, opinionated, and kind being just a few examples-but a fangirl? She'd seen her give the doe eyes to Shikamaru a couple of times, which would have been adorable had Temari not been vehemently glowering at her from across the room. She and Sasuke would be too deadly a mixture to comprehend-cold and firecracker hot, two very opposite forces always at loggerheads with one another.  
"You...liked Sasuke?" she said in amazement.

"Dunno if 'liked' is the right word," Ino huffed. "I think i mostly wanted to dress him up. I mean, you know. He's..." she spat the last part a bit resentfully. "Kind of gorgeous."

Hinata remembered the disgust on his face as he yelled at her, and immediately thought otherwise. Then, quite suddenly, another memory resurfaced, one of a gentler Sasuke, one in which he'd wrapped his arms around her tight and let her cry into his favorite shirt, and her throat clenched.

What was wrong with her? She'd long ago established what Sasuke was in her mind- 80% jerk, 20% stubborn puppy. He was the type that she ought to have figured out, but now everytime she thought of him, her mind spun with confusion. She really liked the rare version of him- the gentleman, the one who moved smoothly and held her when she was broken, the one who carried her limp body to the infirmary, the one who pulled chairs for her and gave her genuine smiles. But this Sasuke never lasted for long. She sighed, and nodded to Ino, who was far too busy ranting to realize that her audience wasn't paying her any attention.

"But besides him. Temari's dead-fish brother?" Ino heaved in a way that hinted that she may have lusted after Gaara at some point herself. "I've met the guy. He's like, the scholarly-type? Goes to Toudai? Beautiful example of why halfie babies are delicious? That guy, who won't even say more than three words to his sister's suitemate, buys you a dress?"

"He was just being nice," Hinata asserted. "He has a girlfriend, I think. He came with her to the exhibition."

"Did he buy her a dress? And..." Ino squinted, assessing the style, "Yours looks like a Givenchy. I swear, if it isn't, it's a very good knock-off, and even those don't come cheap."

Hinata paled and looked down at the skirt of the dress. "Do you really think so?"

"I'm studying fashion design, Hinata," Ino said, rolling her eyes, "I wouldn't bullshit you about something like this."

"But he and Matsuri...held hands."

Again, another eye-roll, this time accompanied by a guttural grunt. "What are we, in grade school? Is holding hands such a big deal anymore?"

"But Ino-!"

"Let. Me. Finish. And as though you couldn't be more of a hog, you just had to go claim Hyuuga Neji, beauty incarnate, as your doting cousin. What kind of-" mid-sentence, Ino's eyes lot up like beacons. "Wait a second. That one's a good thing. I've thought of a great way for you to repay me, Hinata." She leaned forward, grinning deviously. "Let me meet him."

At this, Hinata uncurled and lay down on the floor. "I just met him myself, Ino."

"You'll be meeting him again, though. Take me with you. We're friends, right? Just tell him that you wanted him to meet your bestest friend in the whole wild world, and I'll step forward, he'll immediately be taken my beauty and excellent sense of style." She licked her lips, and Hinata, fearing that her fantasy was about to get uncomfortably intimate, put her hand up.

"You can meet him eventually," she assured her. "Just let us get to know each other."

Ino scoffed. "Eventually. Heh. Give me an estimate, woman."

Hinata shrugged, wondering how long it would take to catch up on over twelve years. "A few weeks, I guess?"

Ino seemed to think it over, determining whether or not she was being duped, and then, apparently satisfied, lay bak into her chair again. "Okay. A few weeks." She chuckled wickedly. "Ah, Hinata. You've got to be the most useful friend I've got."

Hinata nodded dumbly and wondered whether this was a compliment or a poorly disguised insult. Chuckling again, Ino bounded up from her comfortable 'judgment' chair and hopped to her closet, and produced a pair of pajamas. "Change out of that, will you? A dress like that deserves to be worn once and then aired out for centuries."

Hinata obeyed dumbly, carefully removing the treasure under Ino's piercing gaze, and then exchanged clothes with Ino. She saw a look of pure envy flash on Ino's face when she handed her the dress, but said look quickly faded to indescribable bliss, as though she were holding the Holy Grail.

"You're probably a size or two smaller than me," Hinata found herself saying as she wriggled through the downy pajama top, "But, if you want, you can wear it. A-and, since it'll be hard to take it back to my dorm, you can keep it here and study it, if you want."

She barely had time to poke her head through the opening before Ino tackled her full-force and sent them sprawling onto the bedroll.

"Again. You..." Ino said between sniffles, "are the best. Person. Ever."

Hinata laughed and half-pushed Ino off her. She rolled away bonelessly.

"We should sleep," Ino murmured, dazed.

"We should," Hinata agreed, gingerly hauling a blanket over her shoulders. She turned, waited for Ino to stumble into her own bed.

But she didn't. The vivacious blonde...was already out like a light.

Smiling ruefully, Hinata tossed the blanket over her and snuggled up beside her.

* * *

Sasuke's unfortunate ailment had finally reached it's peak.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. When he cruised into rehearsal, he'd been sure he'd finally have a good practice. He'd told himself that there was no way in hell he was going to call Hinata, that there was no need to worry that she hadn't come home the night before, that she probably had some hokey penthouse with a sweet view to crash in, that she was heartless anyway, and that it was high time he just tossed her. How long had he been entertaining this fancy? And she'd just ignored him, shoved him aside for rich, eligible bachelors like Sabaku, and then turned around and set him off guard with those dumb, innocent Bambi eyes. After the debacles that had been the last couple weeks of rehearsal, and the gleeful leers from his dowdy understudy, he really needed to prove himself.

He tossed his messenger bag into the fold of an empty chair and strutted onto the stage, meeting Suigetsu's amused grin with a smug smirk. Kakashi gave a stage direction, and Sasuke stepped forward, perfectly on cue, arms lifted with just the right amount of Puck-ish jauntiness...

...And then realized that he could not remember a single line.

Something cracked inside of him. He looked out into the empty stands, at the expectant faces of the theatre tech staff lounging in front row, and then broke. It was as though something was unbalanced, a chemical, a hormone, his mind? He'd never felt conflicted about anything. He pissed on people's dreams and walked away unfazed by their distraught sobs behind him. He was Sasuke Fucking Uchiha, super hard badass, and there was no way in the world-

"Sasuke," came Kakashi's voice, grave, and he closed his eyes and waited for the executioner's blade, his chest tightening, "I think...you should take a break. A breather. You're trying too hard. We'll have Hitake-san do your parts until you feel better."

His heart dropped. No! He wouldn't go! Didn't Kakashi know what this was to him? He was Uchiha Sasuke, and he was going to rule the acting world someday, he couldn't be cut out now. He'd do better, he was just...

Lying. Lying to himself.

He left the auditorium in solemn silence, stumbling over himself.

* * *

Getting out of TAGS was surprisingly easy. Ino had simply procured one of her more boyish projects, slapped a baseball cap on her head, and Hinata had glided through the campus and out the main entrance ease that comes with maximum androgynousness. She'd boarded the bus, her feet slipping in and out of Ino's slightly too big shoes, and arrived at the entrance of TABS with no hassle whatsoever. She checked her phone- no new texts from nii-san.

Then, she walked onto campus. Given that it was a Saturday morning, the fields were mostly empty- almost everyone would still be sleeping. A sidewalk artist sat on the walkway with an endless set of colored chalks, creating a impressively realistic chasm in the ground. The painted rabbit had been splashed in an obnoxious lime green, probably by the hooligans from the Midori Dorm. Her walk to Aoi was slow, laboured, and mostly silent; only the soft titters of nearby birds sounded. The quiet gave her time to think.

In all honesty, she wasn't angry at Sasuke anymore. Twelve hours of trouble and musing had quelled her flaming rage to little more than half-hearted embers, giving room for an influx of questions. Really, when she played the night over in her head, there'd been no true catalyst to his explosive reaction. She'd known that she was essentially abandoning him in a friendless environment to get to know her cousin, but she thought he'd understood why. When he was at the door, she'd thought she'd seen resignation on his face. Maybe it had been something else. Something she'd missed.

Be the big girl, she told herself. Don't fight. Get to the root of the problem, find out what that 'something' is, or you'll just end up unhappily fighting forever.

She slid her key into the lock, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Inside, it was eerily dark. The blinds were closed and the curtains drawn, blocking out most of the daylight. Weak rays peeked through and pooled on her bed, which was rustled and messy from the night before. Her trenchcoat and sneakers had been tossed onto her dresser half-heartedly. She could hear the buzzing of the mini-fridge and the hiss of the a/c unit and little else. She stepped inside, pocketing her key, and promptly tripped.

Groaning, she peeled her face off the floor and kicked her legs out in frustration, then turned to chastise whatever it was that had tripped her.

And then screamed like she'd seen the dead.

Mostly, because she was pretty sure she had.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** This was an annoying chapter to write. Mostly because trying to show conflict from two different points of view is so tough, and also because my confused Hinata-kins is...well...confused.

Don't forget to review! I'm premed, so my level of work is...kind of occasionally redonkulous. Your reviews motivate me to write the next chapter in a reasonable period of time. :P Also, please please pleaaase don't just say something like "Great Chapter!" GAH! There's nothing more aggravating than seeing a review in your inbox, scrolling down excitedly to get some juicy feedback, and seeing something like "Great!" or "Loved it." Trust me, if you tell me this, I will message you instantly and ask you "why?" and badger you until you give me a satisfying answer. :D (And if you say it anonymously, I will def address you right in the next chapter. I will do a whole string of "WHYs" if I have to. :D 3)

Like, last chapter I got the BESTEST REVIEW EVAR YAYYYY! It made me really happy.

Mini spoiler:

Next chapter will make some of you very happy. Like, REALLY happy.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Kukukukukukukukukuuu

**Disclaimer: **Don't own. What? Were you expecting another funny? Do I look like Wonderwoman to you? –mutters-

* * *

**Chapter Twenty  
**  
Hinata screamed, jolting backward several feet before realizing that she wasn't looking at a corpse. Numbed and catching her breath, she stared down at the immobile form in shock.

"Sasuke?" she muttered. He was sitting in the shadows, head bent over such that his hair covered his face, completely motionless but for the steady rise and fall of his chest. He hadn't even bothered to put his bag away, let alone answer her. "Sasuke?" she tried again, this time dropping to her knees and reaching up to touch his forehead. Out of nowhere, his hand whipped up to grasp her wrist, as though he couldn't bear her touching him. She winced out of habit before noticing that his grip was loose, his fingers merely brushing her skin. She let his arm hang while searching his head for a fever. She'd been the oldest child at the Home, and the Matron had unofficially appointed her the assistant nurse in the infirmary. Reverting to motherly-mode, she tried again, testing his temples and pushing back his hair, but this time his grip actually tightened, and she pulled away.

"Y-you don't seem to have a fever," Hinata murmured. "Sasuke...what's wrong?"

Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes flat and black and cold and so, so sad. She bit her lip.

"O-oh," she managed. Hurt was haunting on his features. Sasuke was an impenetrable fortress of stupid pride and guardedness- to see his walls impinged felt...wrong. "Sasuke...what happened?"

He scoffed softly, and then looked back down again. "It's your fault."

She jolted again, her heart suddenly going off at a mile a minute and her defenses crawling up. "What do you mean? I-"

"Your. Fault." he said more strongly.

"But...b-but..." she blubbered uselessly, unsure of whether to be affronted or just confused. "How is it-ah!"

Sasuke jerked her in by her still captured wrist, launching her into his chest. Her already high heart rate skyrocketed, she couldn't even close her eyes and think about how nice he felt against her or yank away in righteous indignation. He slowly released her hand, letting go finger by finger, and wound his other arm around her, pulling her closer. When he spoke, he did so in whispers, and his breath tickled the back of her neck.

"Kakashi told me to take a break," he spilled, as though it were a horrendous secret.

"Just a break, right?" her voice was weak, devoid of breath. It was a wonder she could even speak, she thought. "You can go back tomorrow, then."

He squeezed then, and she gasped, her arms going limp at her sides. "It isn't like that." his voice wavered. "I've never forgotten my lines before. Ever. And then you come flouncing along, and I don't remember a thing anymore." He bowed his head. "And you go and do things that...things that straight up piss me off, things I'd pound someone else in for doing...but I can't stay mad at you." He sighed. "Why is that?"

"S-Sasuke-kun," she stammered. Her face was hot; she needed to breathe.

"Are you anything special, Hyuuga Hinata? I've met prettier girls than you. I've met nicer girls than you." he pulled away slightly, and she felt his fingers begin to trace patterns on her arms. She shuddered; it felt oddly good, ticklish but not quite and...What was this-what was going on? She'd expected another fight and prepared as such. This, however, she had not foreseen. "So what the hell is going on?"

What the hell was going on?

"You like me," she whispered. She knew this already. So why, now that she said it aloud, here, did it affect her so differently? Nothing had changed, had it? He was still a jerk, still self-righteous and overbearing, and just the night before she'd told Miyo that she wasn't sure. So why was her heart thrumming this way, why were his words plucking all of the right strings- why was she letting him do this?

"Is that it?" he said, a signature smirk in his voice, a glimpse of the real Sasuke resurfacing. "Maybe I don't want to. Hell of a lot it's done for me."

"Sasuke..."

"'Love is a familiar, love is a devil, there is no evil angel but love.' Shakespeare...he was really onto something."

Her hands reached up to squeeze his arms, her throat tight. "Sas-"

"And worse is that it just won't go away, no matter how hard I freaking try it doesn't go away...I can't remember my lines. It's like my mind goes blank, and..."

She pulled away to look at his face. He looked alive now, his eyes glimmering, brow furrowed in real conflict. Her hands crept up to cup his face. What was she doing? This wasn't damage control- this would only make things worse later, when he was a grouchy jerk again and she stopped feeling like this. This would complicate things- and they were already complicated enough.

"Let me help you," she said, swallowing. "I'll come back to rehearsals. I know you have my understudy up right now, but w-will it make it better if I come?"

He scoffed, but leaned into her touch. "How am I supposed to know?"

"We can try." She smiled weakly, then shook back her hair. Ino's baseball cap, loose and backwards on her head, flopped to the floor.

After what seemed like aeons, he nodded. She peeled her hands away, and the moment they'd dropped he'd pulled her close again, settling his chin over her shoulder. It was unfamiliar, but not bad. Aside from the time he'd comforted her, they didn't touch unnecessarily- what had come over him to make him suddenly so forward?

"You won't tell anyone about this." he mumbled into her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. "I won't."

"Because if you do, I'll throw your panties onto the lawn."

"You won't have to."

Pause.

"...I'm sorry."

Hinata froze. Had...Sasuke just apologized?

"You know. For last night. That wasn't fair."

She drew back as much as he would allow, and slapped her hand onto his forehead. "Are you sure you don't have a fever?"

He snorted, disgruntled. "Quit. I'm being serious, okay?"

She slid her hand back to her side and sighed, letting him settle back onto her. "Well, I'm sorry too. I don't think I was entirely fair either."

"No, you weren't."

Hinata steeled herself. 'One of us has to be the grown-up, here.' "That's what I said."

She could feel him smirking against her shoulder. "Truce?"

He nodded, his arms loosening around her, signaling the end of this moment.

"Truce."

She was almost sad when he pulled away. Part of her wanted to stay like that with him forever...and the other wondered how long it would be before Sasuke peeked out of his shell again.

* * *

"S-Sorry, everyone!" Hinata cried aloud. Her nose was very nearly pressed against the wooden floor, her arms bracing her weight in the most apologetic, submissive bow she could produce. "Please...I know I haven't been coming to practice and giving notice. I'm so sorry for i-inconveniencing everyone. Please...c-consider taking me back?"

Kakashi looked down at her thoughtfully, stroking his masked chin. Hinata could feel his gaze on her back, a few degrees colder than usual, and realized with a start that she was intimidated. Perhaps this was why he was teaching at such a prestigious institution, she thought. Behind the chronic tardiness and slight perkiness, he really had a strong presence. Next to him, Hozuki grinned wickedly, his arms crossed, looking very much like he wanted to step on her back.

She stayed there for what felt like forever and a day. Sasuke stood behind her, glaring down Hozuki and looking peeved, as though the whole ordeal were hopelessly annoying to him.

Finally, Kakashi sighed. "Thank goodness you're back."

Hinata's head whipped up, her hair flying with the speed. "Hunh?"

The drama teacher shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well, normally if a student missed as many rehearsals as you have, I'd kick them out in a heartbeat. But..." his one visible eye drifted lazily to his left, where a grouchy, gaunt, and strangely fishy young man sat and scowled, "Seeing as Kisame has a...biting issue to sort out, and the fact that he refuses to wear a dress...I'm not going to be picky." He offered a hand, which Hinata, still in awe, took gingerly. "Still remember your lines?"

Hinata found herself smiling. "Y-yes!" She fumbled slightly, trying to find the right words. Then, just as Kakashi began to make his way down to the audience again, she squeaked, "T-Thank you so much!"

Kakashi gave a low, wicked chuckle and wagged his finger. "Don't be thanking me yet," he warned. "Our first performance is in two weeks. Which means, especially for you, Boot Camp, of sorts. Now, from the top!"

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to properly portray Helena now. Before, she'd only been able to recite lines from memory, words that had little substance when murmured without emotion. But now she'd gotten it. After all, she kind of understood the poor girl's predicament- she was getting tugged and pulled in all directions by the guys in the play all the time. Sounded familiar enough, anyway.

Even having Hozuki as her Lysander was okay. Really, more than okay. He was really brilliant, actually, changing from a slightly sleazy, fanged pretty boy to a man who understood love and could portray it just the way Shakespeare intended. Girls were going to be fainting in the audience, Hinata thought as he took her hand and brought it to his cheek, declaring his adoration in the most velvety tones.

Of course, he didn't even compare to Sasuke.

Just... Wow. It was though he were a different person, bounding across the stage with energy she'd expect of Naruto, his face bright, mischievous, his steps light. There was no pretension there either- anyone who didn't know him wouldn't think he was really so different from his character. A guy like him should have played sullen Demetrius, not sprightly Puck...

Things were going well. More than well, really. She'd melded right back into the group, Sasuke'd recovered entirely and then some, and she was having fun. Besides, now that she and Sasuke'd made up (if that's what she could call it), she felt so at ease. Maybe Deidara was right all along, maybe all she had to do all of this time was acknowledge his feelings. He hadn't tried to get her to reciprocate, and, even though he had literally thrown himself on her, she hadn't pushed away. He hadn't asked why, because she wouldn't have been able to give an answer. It was nice. Really really nice.

"Focus, Helena," Suigetsu whispered into the shell of her ear, making her jolt. "This is the kiss scene."

Hinata made a bodily leap away from him, landing unsteadily on the balls of her feet and staring up at him with the round eyes of a frazzled cat. She skimmed through her memory of a Midsummer Night's Dream, frantically trying to recall any mention of a kiss scene, and came up empty. "D-Don't play with me, Hozuki-senpai," she said nervously. "There's no kiss scene in AMND."

Kakashi cleared his throat. "Uh, actually, there is."

Both Hinata and Sasuke, who'd magically appeared from backstage, leapt forward. "What?" Hinata keened at the same time that Sasuke yelled, "Stop joking around, old man!"

The drama department head shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. "We added it. The script needed a bit of spiciness, if you know what I mean. And no stage kisses- you two are supposed to be desperately in love, so show it." He stood up and mimed sweeping someone down and passionately molesting the air.

Hinata was at a loss for words; actually, she was rather sure her brain had turned to mush after "spiciness." Not that she was technically a lip-virgin anymore, and not that kissing Suigetsu specifically sounded bad, though his fangs might turn out to e a problem. It was just that, frankly, the idea of having a third, and a fourth, and a fifth kiss stolen from her wasn't that appealing. For once, she wanted to actually like the person she mashed faces with. She wasn't an actor- had it not been for her undyingy love for Shakespeare, she wouldn't have been of any use here in the first place- she wouldn't be able to nonchalantly disconnect herself.

"We're guys!" Sasuke said furiously. He jumped off of the stage, landed in a half-crouch, and walked up to where Kakashi was sitting. "Why the hell do we need an actual kiss scene if it isn't even in the script?"

Kakashi smirked, or at least he must have, judging by the way his mask moved to accommodate the movement.

"We're targeting a female audience, Sasuke," he explained cheerily. "Why else is the cast entirely male? That boy-love stuff really sells! If they know there'll be a hot kiss scene, they'll come in droves." His eye lit up at the thought. "Every show, filled up. We'll make so much money!"

Behind him, the entire tech staff face-palmed.

"I won't allow it," Sasuke hissed, crossing his arms indignantly. Kakashi laughed, and then his eyes immediately hardened.

"Don't make me laugh, Uchiha. You have absolutely no say in this." He leaned back in his chair and looked exceedingly self-righteous.

Sasuke glared down at him, unfazed but disgruntled. "We'll see."

From the stage, Hozuki burst out into laughter. "Back down, Sas-gay. I'm not tryin' to steal your uke."

Hinata stiffened in place, and the entire auditorium went dead silent. Even Kakashi, who had just a moment before had been the picture of authoritative calm, looked perturbed. Behind him, the tech crew was half-in-tears, and one of the more squeamish freshmen pissed himself. Sasuke turned slowly, his face terrifyingly blank. "My...what?"

Hozuki, who was either oblivious to the animosity directed his way or just loved baiting people, smirked even wider. "Don't act so insulted, Sasuke. Like you weren't a broken little mess before Hinata-kun decided to come back. Why else would you care if I have to kiss him?"

Sasuke didn't reply, just coolly scaled the stairs to the stage. He stopped dangerously close to Hozuki, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and tilted his head in a way that would have been endearing had he not looked like he were mentally dissecting him. Then, "I think you've been pretty enthusiastic about this whole ordeal, haven't you? Weren't you pissing your pants a few days at the prospect of acting alongside Kisame?"

Fish-boy grunted disapprovingly from his shady corner and flipped Sasuke the bird. Without glancing back, Sasuke returned it.

Hozuki grimaced at the thought. "Hinata doesn't bite, though. Plus..." he leered and turned to the subject of the conflict, who was frozen in place in abject fear, "He's so cute. I think I might enjoy it, you know. I'm not too picky."

A loud crack resounded through the auditorium, followed by a solid thud as Hozuki dropped to the floor. Stunned, Hinata looked up at Sasuke. He didn't even turn, just glared down at Hozuki like he'd very much like to spit on him.

"What the hell?" Hozuki spat, cupping his cheek gingerly as he staggered to his feet. "What is wrong with y-"

Sasuke hit him again, yanking him closer by his collar and jabbing him in the gut. Sufficiently enraged, Hozuki shoved him down to the floor and locked his legs between his knees, holding him down with his weight and proceeding to pummel him.

Kakashi jumped from his seat just as Sasuke managed to throw Hozuki off, wrestling to get on top. "Stop, cut! Stop!"

"Sasuke!" Hinata screamed, just as Hozuki recovered enough to land another hit. "You guys, quit!"

Their complaints fell on deaf ears, however, as the boys were lost in rage and unhealthy influxes of testosterone. Not thinking, Hinata rushed into the frenzy, pulling at Suigetsu's arm helplessly. She jabbed him in the shoulder, but missed his pressure point and only succeeded in having herself tossed back.

"Both of you, stop!" she screamed as she regained footing, her pitch climbing with each word. Behind her, thunderous footsteps sounded. Juugo tapped her shoulder, shaking his head as though he saw these things every day, and nonchalantly scooped each of the still-wriggling boys up by their collars, one in each hand. Kakashi leapt onto the stage, Deidara- who had heard the ruckus when he'd stopped by to check on his tech crew- on his heels.

"Violence isn't the answer," Juugo said solemnly, glancing at each of his struggling captives. Hozuki's face was already swelling, and Sasuke's cheek was trying very hard to turn purple. His shoulder was bleeding; the wound was shaped suspiciously like a row of teeth. "Apologize."

"What seems to be the problem?" Deidara said, looking rather peeved that he'd missed most of the fight.

Hozuki grunted, his voice muffled by the swelling. "Sasuke's on his period."

Sasuke flailed in a helpless effort to kick him, but Juugo drew him further away. "Shut up," he hissed, then, to Juugo, "You'd better put me down, or I swear I'll break your fucking neck-"

"I told them about the script change," Kakashi offered with a shrug. Deidara nodded in understanding, crossing his arms, and then leered knowingly at Sasuke, who finally relaxed in Juugo's hold and adopted the expression of a stubborn, scolded puppy.

"I refuse to allow Sharkface here to molest my roommate," he mumbled, refusing to meet Deidara's eyes.

"Ish part of the fucking shcript, dumbass," Hozuki hissed, his swelling apparently worsening. "Aren't chu schupposed to be an actor?"

Juugo and Deidara nodded in agreement. "Yea, Sasuke, you've kissed plenty of people before on stage. This shouldn't be anything too new for you."

"No actual ones. And they were all girls," Sasuke countered bitterly, "Not naive, accident-prone little boys."

"Hey," Hinata said affronted. Really, sometimes his overprotectiveness got annoying. She was a big girl-ahem-boy. She could take care of herself just fine. "Watch it. I'm not afraid of being kissed."

Perhaps it was the fact that Sasuke's face had suddenly crumpled into devastation that made Juugo let him go. Regardless, the moment she'd finished her sentence, he was on his feet and rolling back his shoulders, and Juugo was eyeing him carefully, as though half-expecting him to lash out again.

"You. Are. Terrified," he said carefully to her. "You don't know what this guy means. You've seen movies right? Those kinds of kisses."

Hinata shrugged, thinking of Deidara's and then Sasuke's, and deciding that she'd never really been kissed normally. She'd managed to skip entirely over the chaste, lip-brushing stage.

"Sasuke," she said softly, "D-Don't worry about me. I owe it to these guys to at least follow the script." She turned to Kakashi, her expression stony, and bowed. "I'll try my best!"

Kakashi nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit!" His gaze drifted lazily to Hozuki, who, though finally on the ground, was leaning heavily against Juugo. "Ooh. You don't look really good."

"Mmrph-mah-mirth." Hozuki replied, now completely unintelligible.

"I think his teeth get stuck in his cheek," Juugo translated loosely. Kakashi shook his head and sighed.

"Goddamit, Suigetsu, not again. You need to get those things filed down, for serious."

"Thrm-mah-teef."

"Juugo, want to take him to the infirmary?"

Always eager to please, Juugo hoisted Hozuki into his arms, balancing him on his shoulder like a baby he was trying to burp. Strangely enough, Hozuki didn't complain, just let himself be carried away. Something told Hinata that she'd just witnessed a fairly routine occurrence.

"Well," Deidara said, shrugging exaggeratedly, "Now that we've gotten that mess taken care of..." he leered suggestively at Hinata, tossing his hair out of his eyes, "How abouts we resume? I'll take over for Suigetsu. Right where you left off."

"Backstage, Sasuke," Kakashi said flippantly, aware of the way the fire had suddenly rekindled in his eyes. "No more messes today."

"But-!"

"Backstage." When Sasuke glared venomously back, he added, "Look, either you go or I get Kisame to escort you. Which would you rather?"

Sasuke seemed to weigh his options, glancing back again at poor, tormented Kisame, who at the moment was picking up mirrors one by one from a conveniently placed stack, ogling at his reflection, and cackling incessantly as each one shattered.

When Kisame actually bit into a chunk of glass and began to grind it between his teeth, his resolve finally broke. "Fine," he muttered reproachfully, and then began to turn away.

"Oh, good," Deidara said airily, and Hinata stiffened at the tiny deflection in his voice that signaled his transition into sexy-dangerous mode. "I was wondering when they'd tie up the Rottweiler."

"D-Deidara..." Hinata hissed, glancing over her shoulder at Sasuke. He had slowed considerably, and his back was locked up and tense, his fists clenched. Her eyes drifted past the widening blood stain on his shoulder and the dark bruise that was blossoming across his cheek. She bit her lip. They looked like they really hurt. "Wait one moment."

She stepped away from Deidara and toward him, but a hand around her waist stopped her in her tracks and dragged her close. She found herself looking directly into Deidara's devious blue eyes, his smirk barely a centimeter from her mouth.

Very quickly, before she had the time to shove him away, he closed the distance.

It was different this time. Perhaps because at first, she'd never known serious-Deidara, and the combination of novelties- her first kiss, her first time seeing him as a man- had made her head spin and heart ache. She'd thought herself helpless. She'd let herself be played with by someone who only thought of her as a cute toy he could mess around with.

But now things had changed. She protested wildly, pushing against his unyielding chest, trying to pull her hands out from between them so that she could pressure-point him down to hell. When that didn't work, she bit down. Hard.

Naturally, he pulled away, sputtering foolishly, and once he had, she prepared to strike. Nothing too hard- he was her friend, after all, a pretty good one too, when she thought about it- just that he didn't understand that there invisible lines he should never cross. Take out his arms, maybe, so that he'd quit being so grabby...

Unfortunately for her, Sasuke got to him first. Hinata winced as they crashed onto the floor.

* * *

"Seriously," Hinata huffed as she wiped Sasuke's shoulder with a fifth alcohol swab. It was still coming back red. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Sasuke grunted reproachfully, and then yelped as she pressed the swab into his wound again.

"Y-You need to understand that...that I can fight my own battles. I mean, I know it makes you upset when-" She frowned. "Are you even listening?"

He grunted. "Hn."

Hinata sighed, and then turned his head by the chin to face her. She winced- Deidara had added a few more bruises to the repertoire Hozuki had so generously given him earlier. None of the guys at rehearsal looked like saps- and he should've already known how evenly matched he and Deidara were. Besides, what kind of guy got into two fistfights one after the other? "At this rate, you won't even have your pretty face anymore," she murmured reproachfully, her fingers idly tracing a splotch of deep purple under his eyes.

"I don't need a pretty face," he muttered, looking away from her again. He lifted his other shirt sleeve, where three thin lines showed brightly against his skin. "Here, clean this one, too. Hozuki has some sharp-ass nails."

Hinata clucked her tongue and shoved him gently. "We should just take you to the infirmary," she said, "I'm sure the nurse can do more for you than I can." She gestured toward her makeshift first-aid box, a meager collection of bandages, antiseptics and sample packets of painkillers that she'd gathered into a ziploc baggie before leaving the Home.

"No," Sasuke said flatly. Her hand froze on his arm.

"Why not?" She said, brow raised.

"I don't go there." His tone was suddenly gruff.

"You took me to the infirmary once," she recalled airily, "And that was for nothing at a-"

"No," he said again firmly. She started, humbled, and fumbled with the bandage she'd been tearing open. Not that she'd never been told 'no' before, or that she was entitled to any kind of explanation, but the instant, cold rejection still stung.

She must have been wearing her emotions on her sleeve, because he suddenly sighed and stilled her hand with his own. "I just don't like them," he said softly, "You know, hospital smells."

She smiled feebly. He was changing. A month ago, he wouldn't have backtracked like that. Hell, a week ago he'd have let the comment stand. What had happened?

"Thank you for enduring it for me that time, then." Her hand slipped out from under his, and she got up and retrieved a cold compress from their mini-fridge. She frowned, squishing it between her fingers. "It isn't really cold yet, so-"

"It'll do," Sasuke sighed. He looked at her beseechingly, almost guiltily. "Come back?"

She tilted her head and grinned coyly, slightly exhilarated by the pleading in his eyes. "But I'm all done."

"Y-You missed one," he said lowly, recognizing her game and playing along,

"I did not," she insisted. He raised a brow, and then pulled up his shirt, where a bright red bruise splashed across his side. She flinched- she'd thought he was pulling her leg- and stepped forward, peering down at it with wide eyes, and sat back down again, lifting his shirt higher to see how far up it went.

Her fingers brushed his skin lightly; he took in a sharp breath.

All of a sudden, she felt uncomfortable. Things that she hadn't noticed or brushed off became apparent and most of all, important. She blushed deeply as she noted where they were and what she was doing. Sitting on his bed, merely a light push away from lying on it, her fingers fisted in his shirt, the heel of her palm hovering just above his nipple, his hand next to hers, helping her lift it up. To an outsider, it would appear far from innocent, despite the open first-aid bag and opened bandage wrappings scattered on the floor. His eyes flickered to meet hers, and they were smoldering, and suddenly being so close was too much, too hot, and she pulled away as though from fire.

He didn't let her run, though, grasping her hand before she had a chance to flee. She fixed her eyes stubbornly on the floor, and he gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. Stubbornly, she averted her eyes to the wall, but he only followed them, leaning one way and then another to keep her from escaping.

"Hinata," he said softly, "Come on. Look at me?"

"I can't," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. He chuckled, and she felt his fingertips on her cheek, stroking gently.

"But...I have something to say. Can't you look at me while I say it?"

"I don't think so," she managed, realizing then that she wasn't breathing.

"Why not?" He asked, his hand moving to brush the nape of her neck.

Her body took it to the other extreme- and she found herself breathing too hard. "C-Cuz," she squeezed her eyes even tighter, "...You're going to s-say something s-scary."

Even without seeing him, she could tell he was smirking. His hand lowered, and she inadvertently exhaled, but it only ended up in one of hers, squeezing reassuringly.

"Please?"

Her eyes flickered open unintentionally. Sasuke rarely handed out "pleases-" the word sounded so alien coming from him. He'd always had the demeanor of one who has been raised to be mannerly but long ago chose to ignore his teachings. In a twisted way, she sort of admired this trait. She'd been told countless of times that she handed out apologies and pleases and thank yous too easily where they weren't due- with her, they meant nothing, just that she was polite. Sasuke, though his disregard for these social graces usually came across as rude, used his sparingly, so that when he did she could feel the full force of his words. A 'thank you' from Sasuke meant the deepest of gratitude, an apology meant he'd been mulling over and regretting his offense for hours, a please meant... It meant...

"So you know what Miyo-chan told me yesterday?" He said coolly, holding her gaze hostage with his own. She shook her head- she'd been too busy worrying about Neji to dwell on it. "She said...that I was doing this wrong. Pushing you away." When she bit her lip, he smirked. "I know it's true. I do that often, mostly because people are quick to come to me. So I just expected you to too, eventually- but you were so stubborn, you went off looking at other guys, falling for gingers, ignoring the fact that I was right here." Under any other circumstance, he would have facepalmed. He lifted her chin again sternly. "Hey. Stop that. I'm almost done." He cleared his throat, and then took her other hand, cradling one in each.

"What I mean is that I haven't made any effort until now. And that I'm going to start now. This is just a...warning."

She couldn't stop smiling now. "O-oh," she whispered. "That's fair."

He grinned. Her inner fangirl squealed in ecstasy. "Hinata," he said, and she felt the coup d'état coming, the final blow...

"...I like you."

The butterflies in her stomach exploded into confetti, which in turn dissipated into pixie dust. It was as though weeks and weeks of tension and uncertainty had just been lifted with those words. She swallowed, trying to push back the rush of emotions threatening to render her incoherent. Was that all that she needed? To hear it from his mouth? Did that make all of the difference?

"You never told me properly," she whispered, her voice choked.

"Did I have to?" His had found hers as well, his thumb stroking her cheek lazily. She smiled, her eyes wet.

"Deidara confessing for you didn't quite cut it."

He finally smiled a little, albeit grimly. "Would you have...accepted it then, if I'd said it?"

She laughed now, and he smiled a little wider, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd caught a glimpse of his dimples.

"Probably not," she muttered.

"So why is now any different?" his voice was back to a whisper, his smile gone. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It just is."

'It was bound to happen some time,' her especially snarky conscience whispered (it's voice eerily similar to Miyo's) when his thumb brushed slowly over her lower lip. 'Really, it was about time. The tension was beginning to get crazy, regardless, I mean...'

And then was immediately silenced the moment his lips brushed hers.

* * *

**A/N: **I like this chapter, and hope you did too. I've been planning it for so freaking long, but it was hard to figure out Sasuke was going to properly confess without sounding too OOC (Which, I think, he still is a bit, but this is an AU, so who cares.) I've had him mull over this for so long, and thought it was time I give him some relief. SO YAY! In the 20th chapter, the pairing is finally actually established! Woot! It's surprising that this is one of the longer chappies, because it's so heavily description-ridden that I hope I didn't overdo it. :P

Yes, Deidara kissed her, and yes, he just did it to get under Sasuke's skin. He likes to rile people up, but you guys know that. It amuses him, even if it gets his ass beat. :D

Also. I am 20 reviews away from 400. OMBaJeez. I'm currently drawing little Hinata-in-Anko's-outfits chibis, and I think that to celebrate this momentous occasion, I must give something away. So. To 400th reviewer, I will do one of two things: 1) Write a gift fic (I don't really do BL or yuri pairings (fun to read sometimes, impossible for me to write) OR 2) Draw a Hinata chibi in the reviewer's outfit!

Be sure to keep track of which reviewer you are—if you think you're 400, say so, and I'll double check for you! THANKS SO MUCH GUYS!


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**: Yes. For two months, I've totes-mi-gotes been MIA. I have a good excuse, though! Finals! Schoolwork! Sleep! I'll try to keep updates at least once a month from now on, though.

On another note, it's been a while since I read _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, and I mixed Demetrius and Lysander's parts. Hozuki is playing Demetrius and Juugo Lysander, not vice versa as I previously asserted. To any theatre-junkies that raised their eyebrows and then shrugged it off, I ask your forgiveness. :)

And to sophia666, who has still not gotten her oneshot: Soon. My excuses will be in that update. :P

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Naruto or anything related to it. :P

**Chapter Twenty-One**

She was seeing stars. It had taken so long to come to terms with how she felt about Sasuke, but now that she had, it all just felt...right. Different as they were, they just seemed to fit, like two pieces of a puzzle. He was the only one who could love her no matter who or what she was, she the one girl who could put him in his place and make him stay there. And since his confession they'd been almost honeymooning, as inseparable as turtle doves and sappy as a maple tree. In a few days they'd be giving their first performance, which meant that rehearsals basically took up whatever time they didn't spend studying (I.e., making out.) The TAGS girls came over for the dress rehearsal, lugging massive, Anko-sized crates of make-up and presenting their designs, which had been approved by their Drama head and then by Deidara, and were currently dragging off their respective actors to the dressing rooms, their bandanas hanging a little low on their noses. They were to present their final costumes, one by one, to Kakashi, who inspected them with a magnifying glass before passing them on to their corresponding actor.

"Sasuke-kun," Hinata murmured against neck, shuddering when he nipped hers in response. "Kakashi...he'll be looking for us soon...!"

Sasuke smirked, placing a soft kiss right below her ear. She'd always known, deep down, that he was the kind of person who fixated on certain things and hung onto them with the tenacity of a pit bull. Which was unfortunate, since said object of his attention at the moment happened to be her. The moment the TAGS girls were ushered in and given the proper, respectful greeting, he'd dragged her away for his amusement. They'd ended up in a vacant dressing-room, curtain drawn.

The moment that curtain had snapped shut, she'd been hella nervous and ready to bolt. It wasn't kisses she was afraid of- she'd had enough of those to know that they were normally quite nice-just the thought that he'd want to make good on the promise hidden within that wolfish leer he'd been giving her all day. But then he sat down, and she'd let out a sigh of relief.

They'd talked. It was strange to just chat with him, no antagonizing, no unnecessary arguments, just pleasant small-talk. Mostly, it seemed like he wanted to get away from the TAGS girls, who had been batting their eyes at him from the moment they walked in (those hussies), and Kakashi, who kept prattling on about how quickly Hozuki's face was healing and shaking his head disparagingly at the now green-brown bruise across Sasuke's cheek.

"Why're you all the way over there?" Sasuke suddenly said, unprovoked, in the middle of a mundane sentence about Naruto's ghastly eating habits. The question broke Hinata out of her pleasant reverie; blinking, she'd realized that she'd stopped listening and had been focusing on the smooth timbre of his voice. She looked up apologetically, and then frowned. Those eyes were back, the ones that made her feel like an tasty morsel. Who knew eyes as black as Sasuke's could smolder?

She blinked. She was still standing, leaning against the wall, barely three feet away from him. "What do you mean?"

And then he pounced, pinning her between him and the wall behind her. Which she normally would have protested, but, goddamn the boy was learning some nice tricks and the moment his lips brushed her jaw she was gone.

And so here they were, snogging in a fairly public dressing room like the couples she'd always despised. Though she couldn't quite blame them anymore. It was really quite fun, and a the prospect of getting caught was, admittedly, a little exciting-

In the distance, Hinata heard Ino's name being called and automatically stiffened.

"Really," she said, turning her head away and bringing her hands to his chest. "We have to stop."

He sighed, his fingers digging into her waist and dragging her closer in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Why?" It was weird how his whining could sound like seduction. She grit her teeth, deciding that no amount of touchy-feely time was worth the wrath the other actors would shower upon their heads should they be caught, and pulled his hands away.

"Ino's been called," she said, "Which means I have to meet her in a couple of minutes."

"Then wait a couple of minutes."

She sighed, and reached up to flick his forehead. He flinched, and she used that split second to slither out of his embrace like an eel.

"I-I'll see you," she said, semi-apologetically, as she stumbled out from behind the curtain.

The girls were already filing in with their costumes and actors, and a few tossed her amused, questioning looks- after all, people didn't just chill out in dressing rooms. She wondered how their expressions would change when Sasuke came out too. Smoothing out her hair, she walked into the open area where the other actors were waiting. Deidara shot her a sly look; she stuck her tongue out at him, still annoyed by the trick he'd pulled the week before. He'd done nothing in the way of apologizing, except to leer at her suggestively and once even suggest that she thank him for getting the ball rolling between she and Sasuke. He winked back, as though pleased that she'd remembered at all, and slid off of his stool. Hinata settled next to Juugo, who was twiddling his thumbs nervously and looking from somewhere on the stage to the floor intermittently. She followed his gaze and smiled when it landed on a girl with a forest-green bandana, which had slipped to settle just below her upper lip. She was pretty, in a soft, unexaggerated way that could easily be construed as plain. She was also incredibly tall, almost Kakashi-sensei's height. The six foot tall drama teacher, who only occasionally had competition in the height department, kept trying to surreptiously boost himself onto his tip-toes. The girl seemed to notice, because she was turning steadily more and more pink, though she seemed to be otherwise controlled.

_'She must be a nice person_,' Hinata thought with a smile. _'If Juugo likes h-' _

Suddenly a hot pink paisley print darted into view, and a moment later the wind was being bludgeoned out of her chest.

"H-Hello, Ino," she said shyly, patting the head of the enthusiastic blonde who was trying desperately to squeeze the life out of her. She looked up at the plastic-wrapped costume, which Ino had somehow managed to hold over her head while hugging her with one arm.

"Hey, sugar. How've you been?" she said, releasing her just as quickly as she'd grabbed her. Her eyes flashed knowingly to Hinata's, and she winked suggestively. "Or, should I say, how's Sasuke?"

Hinata blushed deeply, and reflexively glanced over her shoulder at Juugo, who was thankfully still salivating over the only woman in the room who had a hope of ever kissing him without having to stand on a stool. Of course, she couldn't say as much for Deidara, but who cared about him? (She didn't. That boy was more headache than anything. She could hardly believe he was a t.a. They must have been running low on applicants or something.)

"C'mon, I want to see the costume. I can tell you all about how I'm doing inside the dressing room."

Before the blonde could protest, Hinata had wound an arm around her waist (which tore Juugo's eyes away from green-bandana girl for just a moment) and dragged Ino into the closest open room.

The moment the curtain had snapped shut, Ino rounded on her. She hung the still wrapped costume on a small rack, and then sat down in the chair, crossing her legs and leaning forward.

"You kissed him, didn't you," she said matter-of-factly.

Kissed him? Oh, she'd most definitely done that.

"Maybe," Hinata murmured. "Can I see the dress?"

"Details?" Ino pleaded excitedly.

Hinata took off her shirt and tossed it at her. It landed square in Ino's face and then slid down to her lap. Ino picked it up, murmuring distastefully about how horrendous the color was, and set it aside.

"Dress first," she conceded, making a face. "But right after you wear it, you have to spill."

Hinata shrugged. Ino would squeeze it out of her eventually anyway. "I want to see," she said truthfully, gesturing toward the bag.

Grinning, Ino wrestled the plastic wrap over the hanger, revealing a sheath of blue satin. It wavered gently as though the wind were blowing. Ino turned and with her so did the dress, and Hinata couldn't stop grinning.

Really, Ino had gone to town. She'd expected Victorian clothes, because every single rendition of AMND that she'd seen had chosen them. It seemed that the TAGS girls had gone for a combination of Victorian and ancient Grecian. A ring of golden embroidery went around the neck of the dress, interrupting a flow of deep blue, a thick braid of gold cinched the waist. The fabric billowed and pillowed above the waist, probably to give her breasts a bit of breathing room, and the hem of the skirt was detailed with careful white and gold.

"Wow," she said, "Ino, it's beautiful."

Ino scoffed, obviously flattered. "I know it's beautiful, what I don't know is if it fits."

"You took my measurements last time. How could it not fit?"

Ino rolled her eyes. "I would stick to those measurements if I wanted to make you look like a real girl. The point is to be as close as possible to androgynous here. The audience should be trying to guess who's a guy and who's not. With your hips, I think it'd be a dead giveaway if I wasn't careful."  
She wriggled the dress from it's hanger. "Here. Try."

Hinata took it gingerly. The fabric felt like it could slip right through her fingers.

"It feels expensive," she observed.

"That's because it is," Ino said off-handedly. "Kakashi's banking on making a killing with sales on this one, so he's allocated a lot of his budget to this. We got a pretty hefty chunk." she waved away the information easily. "On."

Hinata obliged, wrestling the dress over her head and slipping her arms through the holes. It flowed easily down her legs. The fabric was cool and light.

"Perfect," Ino said, satisfied.

She turned to herself in the mirror and frowned. It did look nice, she supposed, although it made her shoulders look impossibly wide. Still, she could see the outline of her hips, and she knew that when she moved the shapes of her legs would stick out like a sore thumb. "I definitely still look like a girl."

Ino shrugged. "You're supposed to, technically. As a designer, I'm supposed to be turning you from a boy to a girl. You just already happen to be one, which makes things a little easier. But see," she adjusted the dress so that the neckline lined up properly. "The audience needs to be constantly guessing, you know? So I had to make it seem like I'm hiding stuff." She smiled, ruffling Hinata's hair affectionately. "Wait. I'll get a wig, and we'll be done."

True to her word, Ino fished out a black, wavy wig from her bag. It looked eerily like the hair she'd lost, that she'd chopped off almost six months ago. The sight of it made her throat clench. She hoped Konohomaru was doing okay, that the older girls at the Home were helping the Matron with the chores like she had. She barely noticed as Ino flitted about behind her, securing the wig cap and then carefully pinning the wig itself in place.

"Done," she said triumphantly, stepping back.

When she looked up, she almost saw herself again. Hinata, the shy high school girl who barely lifted her nose out of her books and couldn't talk to anyone for fear of being ridiculed, who hardly spoke to boys and was certainly several eons away from kissing one.

"It looks beautiful," Ino said proudly, securing the wig with a final Bobby pin.

"But-"

"Trust me."

Sighing heavily, Hinata parted the curtains and shook her head doubtfully. Ordinarily, she would agree instantly, smile and tell Ino that there was no issue, of course, but a strange feeling had suddenly swirled into her gut and introduced a paralyzingly doubt.

* * *

Hinata gaped stupidly at the rest of the cast, who had been utterly transformed from a motley crew of pretty boys into mysterious, beautiful faerie folk- some of whom were in dresses. They'd gathered in the open area between the rooms while waiting for the tech crew to set up the set, which gave her plenty of time to ogle openly. Her heart dropped in jealousy at the sight of the Yoshino, the upperclassman who played Queen Titania. They'd never spoken- they were rarely even on the stage at the same time, and she'd never particularly felt the urge to try to get to know him- and, perhaps because she was always around guys like Sasuke and Deidara, she'd thought him rather average. But right now, at the sight of the lithe, long haired, full-lipped beauty, she was sent into a state of shock.

Until he spoke, in a low baritone that nearly sent her tripping over herself. Suddenly, she could see through his otherwise perfect guise, the squareness of his jaw, the protruding Adam's apple half-concealed by the translucent white chiffon scarf thrown over his neck, all dead giveaways. Still, at first glance, he was as tall, regal, and beautiful as his character suggested.

"Fu's excellent, isn't she?" Ino said wistfully, gesturing at the petite green-haired girl in a black bandana that Yoshino was talking to. "There's really no challenge she can't face." She sighed, and then spotted Hozuki and scowled. "Wow, now there's a miracle if I've ever seen one."

Hozuki bared his teeth in response as he ambled over, temporarily breaking his charm. His hair had been pulled back in a low ponytail, and he was wearing a wine red, high collared jacket with silver buttons down the side, dark trousers and boots that stopped mid-calf. His costume, like hers, was far less complicated than the faeries', minimal and colorful rather than detailed and otherworldly. Still, the style suited him.

"Well, Hinata," he said with a wag of his head. "I'll have no problem pretending when we get to that scene, it seems." When she colored and looked like she was either going to faint or punch him, he added, warmly, "Naw, just kidding. You do look nice. Really, sometimes I think it's such a pity you're a dude..."

It took Hinata a full minute and a light nudge from Ino to realize that she wasn't supposed to be flattered, by which time Hozuki had already meandered off to flirt with a group of TAGS girls, who'd been staring at him expectantly from above their bandanas.

"Hey," a breathy, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, and she wheeled around excitedly. And then nearly fell over.

Okay, so she'd read somewhere that Puck was supposed to be kind of weird looking and all, but wasn't this a bit much? She could barely recognize Sasuke under this guise. They'd given him a long, slightly scruffy blue-black wig, and painted him an odd, even steel grey. His lips were painted as well, a dark blue-black. But the most terrifying part were his eyes. His contacts painted the whites of his eyes into a chilling, oily black, his irises a nearly glowing red. This wasn't a faerie, she thought in horror. This was a demon.

Interpreting her aghast expression, Sasuke grinned, which only made her eyes widen further. Fangs, too? Really? "I take it you don't like it?"

"You look like...like...you just came out of a horror movie," she whispered truthfully. He blinked slowly, exaggeratedly, as if just to see her tiny jolt as his black eyes came back into view.

"Kakashi wanted something... A little different for me," he explained coolly.

"Puck isn't supposed to be scary," she muttered, "He's supposed to be sneaky and mischievous and, well, silly-looking, but not s-scary."

A hand crept surreptitiously around her waist, and she stiffened. The lights were dimmer backstage, but they were still far from alone. One glance from any of the thirty or so people gathered nearby from the wrong angle could cause a scene. "Sasuke," she muttered warningly.

"Hm?" he said innocently, rubbing slow circles on her lower back.

He was hopeless. _If he keeps this up, _she thought, flushing, _I'm going to die of high blood pressure when I'm twenty. _"Not here. And not while you're like this. I-Ino'll be mad if you get any of that body paint on this costume. She said the material was e-expensive."

"Why not?" he asked. Then, with a smile that would have sent her to pieces had he not been dressed like something likely to steal her soul, he added, "You look nice."

She changed the subject, trying to ignore the way her cheeks were burning. "S-S-Someone will see."

"Maybe I want them to."

Hinata looked up at him imploringly. "Well, I don't."

A strange look flickered over his face- disappointment? Maybe if he wasn't grey she could tell- and then his arm fell limply and he meandered away, moving to talk to Kakashi. There was something stiff in his gait. She bit her lip- was he mad at her? He was one of the only people she could find the courage to stand up to, to tell off when the occasion seemed to call for it. But maybe she'd taken it too far?

Distantly, she heard Kakashi announce that the crew had finished the set and give a few wise words of encouragement for their last rehearsal, ending with a tender, loving, "Don't fuck this up." Just as she was about to drag herself miserably onstage, Sasuke turned to her again.

And winked. A strange current passed under her skin- that simple gesture held so, so many little promises of things to come.

Three hours later, after they'd undressed and cleaned off their stage makeup, Sasuke found her again, his skin still smudged with grey as though he'd hastened to wipe it away. The TAGS girls were filtering slowly out of the auditorium, and behind them and onstage a few of the actors lingered, speaking excitedly.

"You did good," he said, nudging her gently. She blushed lightly and pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"D-Did I?" It was a wonder he hadn't commented on the kiss scene. Hozuki had been a real gentleman, feigning passion rather than forcing it, and she'd done the same, focusing on the fact that she couldn't feel his teeth at all. Four TAGS girls had to be ferried away to staunch unending nosebleeds. It had not been a scene to forget or ignore-which meant that he was planning to take vengeance.

"Yeah, you did," he said simply.

"You too," she offered, "Well, you always do, so I-I guess..." Why was she still getting nervous around him? She wanted to kick herself. She'd always been easy to read- like a picture book, Konohomaru had once said- and the entire cast had probably seen the way she turned into a total _girl _around him. It was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. After all, Hozuki had voiced his suspicions just the other day.

"Hinata," he interrupted suddenly. "You know I don't care, right?"

She looked up in surprise. "What?"

He sighed as though her confusion were unfounded. "I mean, I don't care what anyone thinks. I bet half of the school's been assuming I'm gay for months now anyway."

Hinata blinked up at him owlishly, slowly digesting the information. "You...want us to tell people?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Not necessarily," he said, and then his smile turned wicked and she knew that his revenge would be served immediately and that it would be super spicy hot. "I just want to be able to do this."

Before she could take a breath, he'd taken her face in both of his hands, leaned over and planted a firm but gentle peck on her lips.

The auditorium went silent. The TAGS girls who remained had frozen mid-sentence and were now gaping up at them in ravenous delight. Kakashi had turned dispassionately and shrugged; next to him, Hozuki was gesturing wildly and noiselessly, as though all of his taunting had been pure tripe. Hinata turned ten different shades of red in rapid, shutter-screen succession as Sasuke extended a hand in invitation.

"Time to go home," he said, seeming not to notice the small crowd staring up at him.

She took it, and, hand-in-hand, they walked out.

"Well," Kakashi drawled, patting a now hysterical Hozuki's shoulder, "Ten points for Sasuke?"

* * *

How they'd managed to kill two hours just making out went beyond her. Neither of them was very experienced in these things, and as opposed to that painful, rough kiss he'd given her so long ago, the ones he gave her now were cautious, hesitant things. It'd taken a little while for either of them to try anything really daring, but once they'd crossed that threshold... Well, Sasuke hated to admit defeat.

Also, she was fairly certain that years of remaining sexually comatose had turned Sasuke into a raging beast of eternal randiness. Kissing Sasuke was nice, something she realized that she'd wanted to do for a long time, but occasionally those hands got frisky, and she found herself grabbing them and moving them and once even disabling all movement from his elbow down, which, bizarrely enough, he found to be more a turn-on than a hindrance. Perhaps it wasn't safe for them to sleep in the same room anymore-oh!

"I'm pretty sure there's a rule somewhere that says that you can't do that until the third date," Hinata sighed breathlessly, pushing them apart and grabbing the vigilante hand that had settled itself at her hip.

Sasuke grinned, nuzzling her neck when she refused him her mouth. "Like you haven't been asking for it this whole time."

"Ah! What are you-oh. Ahhah- Sasuke, that tickles, stop it..."

"Then let me see."

"No way."

"Oh, c'mon. I've seen you in girl's clothes. How come you're so flat right now?"

"I-It's... It's a secret...eep! Sasuke, I'm certain there's a rule against THAT."

"Oh, c'mon, just a peek..."

"I swear if you try that again I'll cut off your-"

A knock on the door interrupted their naughty reverie. Sasuke growled, irritated, and locked her in place with an arm around her waist when she began to wiggle free to answer.

"It's probably the dobe," he murmured, rolling half on top of her. She protested feebly, but then he kissed the corner of her mouth and she turned to butter, allowing herself to relax against him...

"Open up!" A voice called. It wasn't Naruto's, not Kiba's- it took her moment to realize that it was Sai, which was odd, because Sai never ventured to the freshmen dorms and he most certainly never yelled. She stiffened, and then firmly but gently pushed Sasuke off of her. Perhaps he'd felt the way she'd suddenly gone rigid in his arms, or seen the concerned look in her eyes, because he didn't struggle this time.

"I'm coming!" she called, kicking aside the first-aid baggie that still lay on the floor and shaking out her hair so that it wouldn't look too mussed. She opened up, chest tight.

Sai looked down at her, his mouth drawn into a tight line. He cocked an eyebrow, looking from her bright pink face to Sasuke's irritated but oddly satisfied one briefly, and then shouldered his way inside.

"What's up?" she said. There was a hint of desperation in her voice, and she realized that her hands were shaking. Sai was behaving strangely. It worried her. He glanced at her as though searching for something in her eyes, but then shook his head and sighed.

"Hinata," he said slowly, "You need to call Neji. And you need to tell him everything."

She paled. Now? She'd been planning to get to know him better, to visit a few times at least, before revealing her little secret. The last thing she wanted was for her cousin, her nii-san, to be disappointed in her. Ashamed. The thought made her stomach sink. Behind her, Sasuke sat up, brow furrowed and interest piqued.

"Why?" Hinata whispered.

Sai's eyes flickered up to hers, heated for once and nearly scornful. It was the look an older brother would give his younger sibling, annoyed but loving, and she gulped, because she'd never seem him look this serious.

Gravely, he opened up his messenger bag and withdrew a glossy magazine-Pearl, the most popular art and pop culture print of the year. Her cousin was on the cover, and she felt a wonderful surge of pride, because god the shot was great, white clothes and white skin against a white background, the only color in the blue-black of his hair and pale pink of his mouth. But then she read one of the headlines, in bold black letters-'Inside the Prodigy's Exhibition, Exclusive Content,' and her heart froze.

"There's no way," she mouthed, but of course there was. Neji was famous. It was perfectly sensible for his exhibition to be covered by the press, and even more so by Pearl. She'd sat with him on the pedestal, on a place of honor. Highly visible, not even thinking to hide herself. Lost in the realization of her dreams, she'd gotten careless.

"What's going on?" Sasuke said, finally rolling out of bed and walking over. Sai flipped the magazine open, and she gasped, because this was awful, this was all of her worst fears realized. The spread spanned across both pages, an enlarged picture of she and Neji at the table. In any other situation it would be heartwarming, because in the picture they looked happy, like a family. Except underneath it, in large white letters, it read, "A storybook reunion! After years of fruitless searche, artistic prodigy Neji Hyuuga happens upon long-lost cousin Hinata Hyuuga."

She couldn't move. Couldn't. Her body rebelled, denying her even the relief of tears. Her name, for anyone to read. Her face, for all to see. If Sai had already seen this, she had literally hours- mere hours, she thought despairingly, before the shit really hit the fan.

"Oh, god," Sasuke said. If she looked up, she would see the pain that split open his face, would see the shock that broke down his wall entirely. But she couldn't turn. The picture grew blurred, became a mass of black and peach-white, and then, when she couldn't see it anymore, her hand moved mechanically into her pocket. She pulled out her cell phone. And then dialed.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hinata?"

Her voice stuck to her throat. She coughed feebly, though the blockage was far from physical.

"Neji-niisan?" she said timorously.

He sounded tired, likely exhausted after the strain of the exhibition and the numerous conferences and interviews following. "Yes?"

Hinata swallowed and turned to Sai, finding little comfort in his fixed mouth and downcast eyes. Next to her, Sasuke was squeezing her hand gently, but she couldn't look at him, not now, not when everything they'd finally managed to build together- everything they'd become- was about to come falling down in pieces.

"I have...something to tell you."

* * *

A/N: I haven't looked over this even once, so I apologize in advance for anything that might seem sloppy, etc. This chapter was iffy, since the first half is kind of filler-y. Also, cliffie! YAY! Please don't kill me! –hides from arrows-


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two****  
**  
Today had been a fairly good day for Neji Hyuuga. The reviews for his exhibition were coming in floods, and for the most part they were reverent, praising his eloquence and the night-day design of the exposition. Many of the winning pieces on display had been sold for considerable prices; a few going to wealthy old-money patrons who offered enough to pay for the artist's educations and then some. A fraction of the profits went to a local orphanage on the other side of town- the press had drank that up like fine cognac- and Miyo-chan had left for Okinawa for some post-expo wind-down. After months of endless planning and meetings, he was glad to get some rest.

Running his hands through his hair, he inhaled deeply and thanked the gods for finally smoothing the paths for him. He'd been through enough, seen rejection and death and abuse, only to come out clean as a whistle. It was as though the spirits were apologizing and thus were blessing him many times over. They took, and now they were giving back.

Like giving him Hinata again. The night of the accident, they'd told him that she was dead. He'd thought he'd lost everything that he had just recently attained- a family who cared for him like their own, complete with two little sisters to look up to him, a stern but loving father, a mother whose smile could light up the world. When another social worker offhandedly informed him that Hinata had survived, he had hoped, prayed, dreamed about finding her again. When he first fell into fortune, he used a good portion of it on private investigators who scoured the island for her. About a year ago he'd finally gotten a decisive lead- she had been living in a tiny hostel in _ with only about fifteen other kids and an elderly Matron. The trail had gone cold from there- Hinata turned eighteen and virtually disappeared from the world.

The devastation at coming to yet another dead end had been irreparable. Even now, he felt little bursts of panic that she would disappear again. It had taken all of his willpower to keep himself from forcing her to give up school and live with him, to study under Miyo's tutelage like he had and stay somewhere where he could ascertain her existence.

His phone rang, nearly vibrating off of his nightstand. He picked it up unaffectedly, and then smiled smugly when the caller ID flashed across the screen.

"Hinata?" he said.

"Neji-nii-san?"

His brow furrowed. There was an unusual tremor to her voice, a high pitch she only used when she was in real trouble.

"Yes?" he said, worrisome anxiety already rising in his throat.

"I...I have something to tell you."

"This I gathered," he said. "Seeing as you've called." When his little attempt at humor failed to illicit a response, he sighed. "What is it?"

"I...I'd rather tell you in person."

Neji frowned. He was a busy man, and Hinata knew that. She'd never been demanding as a child, always tended to consider her needs last. The fact that she was willing to impose...

"Alright. I'm sending a driver to pick you up."

A pause, and then a sharp breath of panic. "U-um...actually, could you send him to The Serpent? Erm, that's where I am right now."

He furrowed his brow at her obvious lie. So she was currently somewhere she didn't want him to know about. Well, truthfully, he didn't know much about older Hinata, even if he could still read her like a book. She could be engaged in all sorts of questionable activities, although he doubted she was given her temperament.

"Fine. Be ready in half an hour," he said, letting her know that he knew something was up, and then hung up as was custom before realizing belatedly that this was his cousin, after all, so perhaps a 'good-bye' would have been appropriate. Shrugging, he dialed Saito-san's number and settled back onto his bed.

* * *

"Be ready in half an hour," he said, and then the line died.

"He's mad he's mad he's mad," Hinata said, her head growing light. "Oh god, he knows."

Sai tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How can he know? Unless his people have already dug up information on you." He shrugged. "Hunh. I guess he could. I mean, with those resources, the first thing I'd do after finding my long lost sister would be to check for a criminal record."

Hinata turned nearly green. Tossing Sai a dirty look, Sasuke loped an arm around Hinata and pulled her into his side. "Oh come on. How do you know he's knows anything? You talked for all of ten seconds."

"H-He said...to be ready in thirty minutes. S-So he knows I'm not really at the Serpent." She twiddled her thumbs nervously.

"Well, that's probably because you're a horrible liar," Sai said flatly. Sasuke ducked his head in agreement.

"Still." She sighs. "What if he...never mind. I have to let him know, right?"

But they'd already filled in her thoughts. Neji could force her to leave TABs- that, they were prepared for. After all, it was asking too much to believe that she would actually survive all four years without being discovered.

But if he were ashamed, she'd be lost. If he decided to cut off ties, she'd be broken.

If he never looked at her again- well, then she may as well die.

"It'll be okay," Sai said hopefully. "It will."

* * *

They arrived at the Serpent twenty minutes early. Saito-san's black car was already parked in front. Hinata glanced at it, then back to the entrance of the Serpent-she'd at least wanted to talk to Anko before she did this-and then sighed.

"Okay," she said, waving to Saito-san through the dark windshield, "I think I'm going now."

"We're coming with you," Sasuke said automatically.

She shook her head. "Neji-nii doesn't like you."

He shrugged. "And I don't like him. Which is precisely why I'm not letting you just step into his car and get abducted."

"Sasuke!" She ground her teeth at the accusation. "Neji-nii wouldn't-"

"You don't know him, Hinata," Sasuke half-growled, brushing the hair out of his eyes in frustration. "Maybe years ago, you did, but you aren't the same as you were then, are you? I'm coming with you. I'll trail you in a cab if I have to. Understand?"

She glared at him, long and hard. She hated when he made sense. Experience with Sasuke told her that, for a person who was so stoic, he was driven almost purely by emotion. He was the type to lose all rational thought in support of a cause he believed in, to take drastic, ugly vengeance when he felt wronged. She was the voice of reason in this relationship, the one that reigned him in when he allowed his feelings to put him out of line.

A Sasuke who actually thought things through...was a bit scary.

"Fine," she said finally, tearing her eyes away. She was changing too, she thought, her throat tight. She'd gotten bold and angry. She'd learned to be annoyed with others, but not how to hide it.

"I'm coming too," Sai quipped, "To prevent any bloodshed."

Hinata rapped gently on the passenger seat window. Saito-san's shadowed profile turned, and then nodded. "You just want to meet Neji in person."

She stepped aside as the tall driver climbed out of the driver's seat and approached them. Already, Sasuke was tensing behind her.

"Good evening, Saito-san," she said cordially. Her cousin's driver didn't reply, just bowed and opened up the door for them. "E-Erm, these guys are coming too," she added hastily.

His eyes flickered from Sasuke to Sai. "I was instructed to bring you to Hyuuga-sama," he said flatly, "Not any accompanying hoodlums."

Sasuke didn't take the bait. He'd seen the driver before at the exhibition opening, and could tell when he wasn't wanted. "If that's how you're going to be, we'll just tail you," he said with a shrug.

"Saito-san," Hinata clasped both hands together pleadingly. "I need them with me. They're my best friends. I can't do this without them."

She was playing with fire here, she knew. If Neji-nii was already wary, Saito-san explaining the guys would make him really raise eyebrows.

"As Hyuuga-sama wishes," Saito said a bit grudgingly, opening the door.

As Hyuuga-sama wishes, she repeated in her head the entire ride. Of which Hyuuga did he speak? Her cousin, or her?

* * *

Seeing Neji again was like walking out of a blazing desert and into a blizzard. At first, she was swamped purely in relief as the icy air hit her skin, but then her pores began to pucker and her ears sting and she found herself in an entirely new conundrum.

Her cousin had never been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve- it gathered in his eyes instead. Right now, with him standing before them straight-backed and smiling thinly, she'd never seen anything so cold.

"Hinata," Neji said, eyes flickering from his cousin to the two guys flanking her, one with an expression grave as death and the other who couldn't seem to hide his excitement at being in the-Neji-Hyuuga's home. "I understood from your phone call that you wanted to discuss something with me in private. So, pray, tell me why you've brought along your friends?"

"T-They don't have to listen in," she assured him, "I just...I'm sorry."

Sasuke's eyes flashed as she apologized, like he didn't want her to be contrite about bringing uninvited strangers into her cousin's home. Not that they were strangers- Hinata could taste the tension sparking in the air between them, engendered from bad first impressions and Sasuke's general lack of decor.

"We'll talk in my office," Neji announced. He gestured toward the blue leather chairs and coffee table next to them. "Your friends can wait here."

He nodded once to indicate that he wanted her to follow his lead, and then, with a final glare in the intruder's direction, disappeared up a coil of stairs with Hinata following close behind.

"It'll be okay," she said before she reached the top. Catching Sasuke's eye for one last time, she offered a smile. He returned it uncertainly, and then, with docility she didn't know he possessed, sat down, picked up a magazine, and flipped through the pages.

"After you," Neji said, opening a sturdy oak door that seemed out of place in his otherwise very contemporary home.

Hinata nodded once, and then stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

Neji wasted no time in asking questions. "Who is that guy to you?"

Hinata's eyes widened, a bit unbalanced by the razor-sharp, interrogative nature of the question.  
"W-W-Which one?"

Neji scoffed. His hair was pulled up in an unusually high ponytail for his tastes, tied around the center of his head rather than the nape of his neck. This style drew attention to his bone structure, to the high cheekbones she'd observed from day one, the rather stern squareness of his jaw. His features themselves were slightly feminine, they were her features, a lot of them, but it was their backdrop that saved him from complete androgyny.

The scowl helped.

"You know precisely who I'm talking about," he said sternly. "And I know that, technically, I should have absolutely no say in your romantic life, but when your selection is so poor-"

"What the hell," Hinata said, jumping from her seat, "Do you have against my boyfriend?"

The a/c roared to life around them, and then settled to a low hum. Hinata stared up at the stricken shock on her cousin's face with a mixture of guilt and pride. Sasuke was right. Of course years apart would alter them both. The old Hinata would never have raised her voice at Neji, would never have sworn at him; the old Neji never said anything he thought might hurt her.

"Fine," Neji said, looking petulant. "Fine. But has he told you about his psychopathic brother? Wait, he doesn't have to! It's a simple Google search away!" He whipped out his cell phone, typed furiously, and then held up the screen. "Ah. 'Entire Uchiha Family Felled by Deranged Heir.' There we go. Has he told you about that?"

Hinata stared at the screen, eyes wide. "Wait...what?"

Her cousin glared at her for a solid ten seconds. Then, the anger faded, changing to calm and...disappointment?

"You've heard of Sharingan Cor., right?" Neji said slowly. Hinata nodded- they were a large technology corporation, specializing in small, personal electronics. She'd been salivating over their graphic tablets since she was thirteen. "His father was its president. The eldest son, Itachi, made primetime news for his achievements in computer programming...when he was eleven. He was a teaching assistant at Toudai's CS program by fourteen." He paused to let Hinata absorb that information. "Eight years ago, though, he suddenly snapped. Stole a pistol from his father's closet during a family reunion, and shot everyone, every single one, except for his little brother." Neji watched her carefully, reading her, and she had to  
fight to keep her expression cool, to  
meet his eyes.

Little things were starting to make sense now, the way he rarely let anyone close to him, how he'd protected her ferociously in the beginning, his hatred of hospital smells.

'But why didn't he tell me?' Even if she couldn't come close to comprehending the pain and conflict he would feel toward his brother, she at least knew what it was like to lose a family. She wouldn't be able to bring them back, no one could do that. But she could help him forget, maybe just a little, help him move on...

...She'd trusted him with her identity, her secrets. He hadn't trusted her with anything.

Hinata bit down the tremors of betrayal before they could crawl out of her mouth.

"Uchiha Sasuke has bounced in and out of juvenile detention for three years after that. Since, he's emerged as a sought-after actor, and he's brilliant, I can't deny that." Neji sighed. "I'm just concerned. How do you know he's even stable, Hinata?"

His eyes were sincere. He was just worried, like any big brother would be. He'd probably known who Sasuke was the moment he'd seen him at the dinner.

"Neji-nii," she said softly, clapping her hand over the screen of his phone and his hand. "I have far more pressing things for you to worry about than the mental stability of my boyfriend." She held his gaze for a minute, garnering courage from the fact that Neji had actually stopped mid-tirade to listen to her, to her, silly, fallible little Hinata.

"I'm...I'm enrolled at TABS," she said in one breath. "For the past year, I've been studying at the Tokyo Academy Art School...for boys."

She watched Neji blink owlishly, once. twice. His cell phone clattered onto the desk between them.

"E-Excuse me?" he said, turning steadily green. Concerns about his cousin's choice of boyfriend suddenly seemed frivolous. "What?"

"I've been gallivanting around as a guy at an all-boys school. And now my picture is splashed across an art magazine, and you can see my cleavage." It was a lot easier to deliver the news quickly and honestly. It kept her from chickening out and banging her head on the desk screaming out apologies for the next half an hour.

Green turned to red. Neji looked ready to explode.

Downstairs, Sai and Sasuke glanced up as the ceiling began to shake.

"You..." Neji said lowly, gripping the edge of the desk like a lifeline, "What?"

Immediately, she pushed her chair back and walked over to his side of the desk. Dropping to her knees, she braced herself and then fell forward into the most apologetic, subordinating bow she could muster.

"I'm sorry, Nii-san," she said truthfully.

Silence.

"You..." Neji inhaled deeply, letting his thoughts linger in the air for a moment before trying again. "You didn't go to be around...guys, did you?"

Hinata gaped, appalled. "No!" That was the sort of thing that girls like Ino dreamed about but were never bold enough, or desperate enough, to do. That very prospect had held her back from even applying at first.

"And this wasn't a prank? Nobody dared you to, or forced you in?"

"No," Hinata said, "This was all my decision."

"Tokyo Academy of Arts for Boys is the top-ranked art university in Asia," Neji said, so quietly that she almost missed it. "Its female counterpart is several places lower in the rankings."

Her head shot up. "Yes." Could he...did he...understand?

Her cousin looked down her, one eyebrow cocked. "We Hyuuga never did settle for less than the best, did we?" He laughed dryly, shaking his head. "But, seriously, Hinata, what the hell were you thinking? There are plenty of amazing art schools overseas. You could have-"

"It wasn't financially feasible," Hinata explained sheepishly. Neji's face went blank for a moment- of course his mind wouldn't go there. Miyo-chan was a renowned professor of the arts, and once he'd established himself, money wouldn't be an issue for him. She hadn't been stupid- she'd applied to places other than TABS. But TABS had passed her the cash. Who would she be to refuse that from the top art school in the country?

"Does TABS have a copy of your birth certificate?" Neji asked, recovered. She shook her head. "A forged one?"

"They didn't ask for it," she explained. "I just gave them my social security number. I...I don't think they do background checks on students unless they have reason to."

"So you filled a normal application, with entirely legitimate documentation," he said for clarification.

"Yes," she said firmly. "Nii-san, what are we going to do?"

This time, Neji didn't pause. "Well, obviously, you've been found out. I wouldn't be surprised if a good portion of the TABS students have already read this month's Pearl. Eventually someone you know will see your name, if the picture doesn't give you away." She sighed. The picture was a good one, but definitely her. "I'm calling the Dean this second, and withdrawing you. You'll have to give your written consent, of course. The media is likely to buzz about it, but if you just lay low, they'll eventually leave you be."

"W-Withdraw?" she knew she'd have to, but TABS was home. "I...How will I study?"

Neji looked at her as though she'd just asked him what color the sky was. "Miyo-chan and I will continue your tutelage, of course."

It was more than a fair exchange. Career-wise, studying under her cousin and Miyo-chan basically guaranteed her a degree of prestige as an artist. She'd probably be able to host her own exhibits, and if she was halfway good, get serious commissions from those within the Hyuuga circle of connections.

"So when...when the University finds out?" she said it in a whisper. He shrugged.

"If they decide to take legal action, we fight back. If you didn't send any forged documents, then admitting you would be a mistake on their part."

"So...when?" When do I have to leave? When do I have to...say good-bye?

"Saito-san will drive you back. You'll pack your belongings, and come back here. I'll call the Dean. You'll sign the consent form." He must have seen her stoic guise breaking, because he placed a gentle hand on her own assuringly. "I'm sorry it turned out this way."

"It would have happened sometime," she admitted sadly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It would've."

* * *

Hinata couldn't talk to Sasuke the entire way back, choosing instead to effectively tell Sai their course of action while Sasuke listened. In spite of everything, she couldn't bring herself to  
look at him. Part of her knew that he had the right to tell her about his past when he was ready, but that part was mute when compared to the one screaming that he didn't trust her, that even if he liked her he couldn't tell her about something as important as, um, the fact that his entire family had been massacred? By his brother?

Maybe it was good she was leaving, then. Maybe the timing for all of this was just right.

"You don't have much," Sai was saying. "We could probably roll out all of your clothes in one suitcase. Maybe box your sketchbooks? Packing shouldn't take long with three sets of hands."

Saito-san nodded, having opened the partition between his passengers and him. "Hyuuga-sama advises that you leave campus within two hours. If you need any help, I'll be here." He pulled in fluidly into the parking lot closest to Aoi. "Please make haste. I'm sure many of your classmates have made the connection by now."

They half-jogged up to the room, Sasuke holding a few flattened boxes, Sai a box tape dispenser. They got there with no issue and stepped inside, locked the door. "You heard the man," Sai said, shrugging. "Make haste."

"Pack your clothes," Sasuke said, assembling a cardboard box as he spoke. "I'll put away your books. Sai, get the sheets?"

"Yeah, do you have an extra box?"

"Here, catch."

Hinata didn't even try folding- if it was already folded, it went in neatly, if not, it was squished into spaces and corners. She tore her clothes off their hangers, didn't stop when they all spilled onto the floor with a clatter. She tried not to look at the blue walls, at the curtains, at the Dega and Dali posters on the wall (that Sasuke was taking down) at anything but her task at hand. She wasn't coming back here, ever. It was like leaving home and knowing you could never return.

By the time she'd turned away, the boys had taken care of the rest of her belongings. They were taping shut the boxes when there was a knock on the door.

They froze. And stared. Sasuke looked over at Sai meaningfully, and Sai nodded, walking forward on light feet and peeking through the peephole. Then he smiled, one of his good, natural smiles, and pushed the door open.

Anko slithered past him, and he shut it and locked it again.

"I'm guessing you saw the magazine," Hinata said a bit sardonically.

"Oh, Hana-chan," she said, enveloping Hinata in a hug. She looked fairly...normal today, low-cut cargo pants that hung off of her hips precariously, a T-shirt with a mudflap girl, eyeliner and little else in the way of makeup. She smelled like soap. "Goddamn, girl, is this a rough patch you're in."

Hinata nodded. "My cousin's sorting it out," she said softly.

"I'm sorry things turned out this way." She pulled back, framing Hinata's face with warm hands. "Don't forget about the Serpent. I've got your last paycheck right here. Come back when you can."

Hinata smiled, her eyes filling with tears, and accepted the envelope. "I guess I've been fired," she said.

"Think of it as an honorable discharge, or an extended vacation until-you-get-your-shit-together." Anko kissed her cheek gently. Then she reached into her bag, pulling out folded blue fabric. Whipping it open, it revealed itself to be a simple sundress, beaded at the waist. It barely looked like an Anko creation, if not for the beads and lack of tag she would've guessed she'd bought it from a store. "Go out with a bang, I say," she said wickedly. "Maybe take your last walk through TABS with those nice boobs of yours showing. Just a suggestion." While Hinata blubbered her thanks and turned pink, Anko draped an arm across her shoulders and squeezed once more, her expression softening. "I have to get going, but I had to see you. Call me. Write. Something!"

And she was out the door, quick as she'd come. Hinata stared at it woefully for a moment, then down at the dress in her arms (her dress-up sessions with Anko were ending as well, it seemed) and then turned to the boys with a practiced smile.

"Are we ready to get going?" She asked.

They carried down the first two sets of boxes and piled them into the trunk with no incidence. Suddenly, as they were about to mount the steps, Sai reached over and pulled her into a hug.

"I'll be seeing you," he said genially, and then sprinted off before she could stop him.

"What was that about?" Sasuke growled, disgruntled.

Hinata shrugged, equally confused.  
There was only a box and a suitcase left over, but it seemed strange for him to follow her this far and then split.

And then she realized something. She and Sasuke were alone now. Just the two of them. Which was normal, they were roommates, after all, and he was her boyfriend, but right now was just not a good time. Not when she couldn't stop thinking about all of the secrets he hadn't told her. She could almost feel the panic flooding her system at these thoughts, and swallowed, trying to blink back stupid, senseless tears.

"I'll get the suitcase," she said, bounding up the stairs before he could say anything else.

He followed, leaning against the door frame and watching as she fumbled with the zippers of the suitcase.

"Is something wrong?" He said quietly, "Aside from the obvious, I mean."

Hinata turned to him in spite of herself and tried to procure a reassuring smile. She looked more like she was going to be sick. "No, it's nothing, I'm just going to miss everyone..."

He clicked closed the door. "...Really." He walked forward, and she turned resolutely back to the case, where the damn zipper had gotten stuck. She swore under her breath and knocked her head against the plastic handle once, twice.

She felt his breath disturb the hair on her nape before she felt his arms. They wound against her warmly, his chin settling on her shoulder.

"Whatever it is," he said softly, "I hope it gets better. It's okay if you don't tell me now...just...when you're ready, okay?"

It was easily the sweetest thing he'd ever said to her, and so freaking ironic. He could tell something was wrong, and he wasn't forcing an answer out of her, wasn't getting bitter because she wasn't giving him a response, was just giving her space...

"Hey," Sasuke said, turning her around by her shoulders, "Hey, it's okay." He wiped a tear off of her cheek that she hadn't even noticed had started to trail down. A deep welling rose in her chest, stronger than that constant expansion she experienced around him normally, and suddenly she felt the urge to say it, to say something stupid that she'd probably regret, but had to be said.

"Sasuke," she sighed, hiding her face in his shirt, because all this crying and blubbering was just embarrassing. "I love you."

She felt him stiffen underneath her, felt his hold suddenly lighten. A little bit of her was scared now- what if he brushed her off, what if she ended her last day at TABS with complete and utter rejection...?

"That's funny," Sasuke said slowly, and her heart instantly fell. He must have felt the way her body seized up when he'd said, because he laughed and pulled away to look at her. He was smiling, but this time the expression seemed almost too big for his face, a little dopey-ish...Naruto's kind of smile. "Because I love you, too."

* * *

About half an hour into an especially lovey-dovey goodbye make-out session, the door to their room swung open dramatically. Sasuke swore out loud, having forgotten to lock the door on their last trip up, and tried, and failed, to remove his hand inconspicuously from Hinata's thigh. Hinata buried her face in his shirt, trying to force down the skirt of Anko's gift and pull up the front at once.

"Holy shit," Naruto said, Kiba right behind him. "Holy shit, didn't mean to interrupt-!"

"That's why you fucking knock, dobe," Sasuke spat bitterly, rolling off of her. He glanced down at his girlfriend and sighed; she'd turned nearly puce with mortification and was currently attempting to bury herself under the sheets. "Hinata, we should get going, anyway."

"Okay," Hinata squeaked.

"Why the hell is Hinata wearing a dress?" Kiba asked, peering inside out of curiosity. "Oh shit, are those tits?"

"Hey, mutt," Sasuke growled, "Eyes up."

"B-B-But-!" Kiba stammered, patting his chest, "Why does he have boobs?"

* * *

Sometimes, Sasuke really liked his friends. They put up with him when he was a grouchy bastard, and entertained him on a regular basis. He'd met them at TABS' orientation and had been surprised by the fact that he was actually enjoying hanging out with people, although he'd never admit it.

Right now, though, he would like nothing more than to bash all of their heads together.

From somewhere outside the room, someone let out a wholly annoyed sigh. "That's 'cuz he's a girl, you dumbfuck." Shikamaru leisurely walked inside, hands jammed in pockets. "I saw the Pearl issue. Didn't know you were that breed of Hyuuga Hinata. Though I guess that was stupid. Neji Hyuuga's been looking for his baby sister since he was big enough to pronounce 'private investigator,' and you guys have the same, well, face."

For some reason this drove Hinata out of embarrassment. "You...knew?" Shikamaru had never shown any sign that he so much as suspected anything, always treated her like he did every one of the guys- with abject indifference.

Shikamaru shrugged. "Your proportions are all wrong for a guy. You wear boxy shirts and whatnot, but when you move, it's easy to see that you don't fill them out. And no Adam's apple to speak of." His lips quirked up in the corners. "We're in an art school, for crying out loud. I'm shocked that you managed to dupe anyone."

"Not anymore," she said with a sigh, looking back at Kiba and Naruto, who seemed seconds from foaming at the mouth. "I...I'm glad you guys came. It's...better if I can see you one last time, isn't it?"

Immediately, Kiba's face became serious. "What do you mean? You're...leaving?"

"Didn't you see the Pearl?" Sasuke said, still annoyed about the interruption.

"Well...yeah. But Hinata cross-dresses for work, so I thought-"

Hinata clutched her chest, horrified. "You thought t-they were fake?"

While Kiba clumsily tried to recover from his blunder ("No, not all, they're actually very nice and natural-looking in real life, you know, in magazines you just can never tell, what with Photoshop and airbrushing and all!") and Naruto, still catatonic, started to drool, Sasuke crossed his arms irritably. The presence of this gang of idiots reminded him that, with Hinata gone, he'd have to be putting up with them on his own.

"What are you going to do about the play?" Shikamaru said suddenly, and suddenly Hinata's face went white, bone-white.

Sasuke grit his teeth. Was she really serious? She was a hop, skip and jump away from possible expulsion and she was letting not being able to make the play bother her? "Listen, Hinata, if we don't get back in the car in the next five minutes, everything Neji's managed to work out for you will fail. These guys are here right now because they saw the article. We need to split, now."

Hinata looked up at him mournfully. "Kakashi-sensei-," she started.

"Will get over himself." He ran his hand through his hair. He needed to break that habit- the hair at his edges was already beginning to break. "You," Sasuke turned to the intruders, "get out." When they hesitated to move. He swallowed his pride. "Please," he said imploringly. "You'll see her soon."

It was a lie, one he was trying to convince himself of as well. This wasn't going to be a permanent thing. Hinata would chill in Neji's condo for about a week, and then, when things had quieted down, they'd meet up for miso again. He would steal her noodles and pull her close, and he'd insist that maybe being found out wasn't such a bad thing after all, because now he could see her legs in shorts. She would hit him, or maybe kiss him, depending on her mood, and then beg him to stop off at an ice cream parlor so that she could grab a chocolate mint cone and he nothing at all.

It was going to be okay. He wasn't losing Hinata. He wasn't.

"Please," he said hoarsely.

This time, they listened.

* * *

The walk back to Saito-san felt more like a funeral procession. The boys gathered around Hinata like mother elephants shielding their young, blocking her from view. They'd done this almost instinctively, not even looking at each other before settling into formation. Kiba dragged her suitcase behind him, and the sounds of birds chirping and wheels clanking against cobblestone were the only things breaking the silence. Sasuke held Hinata's hand tightly in his.

She'd read in a history book once that, in old Ireland, when a relative left for the States, they held a wake for the person. Death or emigration- both meant that the family would never see that person again, so why not consider them dead?

"Hyuuga-sama?" Saito-san looked at her expectantly. She blinked. They were at the car, the backseat door splayed open.

Sasuke squeezed her hand- perhaps reassuringly at first, but his grip was just a tad too tight, a bit too reluctant to loosen. At that moment, she didn't care what Saito-san told Neji when they got back; she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. She could feel him stiffen under her mouth; he wasn't used to her taking initiative, but then he pulled her even closer, understanding.

Their tears melded, wet, on their cheeks.

When she got into that car, would that be it? Would she be dead to TABS forever?

"Good-bye," she whispered onto his lips, and then slid inside.

* * *

**A/N**: Yes, yes, I'm a cruel lady. MIA for Months! Unfortunately, I can't promise my behavior will improve this time. I've got schoolwork out the wazzoo. Children out there, don't be premed unless you really really _really _want to be a doctor. Or you actually happen to like things like Chemistry. Just kidding, everyone knows that chemists don't exist! Haha.

Please don't forget to review! Nothing really gets me working like reviews. This chapter was so hard to churn out, and I don't think i could've had the mojo to finish it had it not been for all of my totally awesome reviewers! I love you guys!

Also, totally check out my recently posted oneshot, Joy! It's for sophia666, who hasn't reviewed/replied just yet so I've got no idea if she likes it or not.

One chapter to go.


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